So, when kiss Spring comes we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss lips because tic clocks tock don't make a toctic difference to kisskiss you and to kiss me.
Sex and excretion are reminders that anyone's claim to round-the-clock dignity is tenuous. The so-called rational animal has a desperate drive to pair up and moan and writhe.
A professor was telling students about his colleagues class. Students in the other class had taken to tossing erasers at the clock. Each precise hit caused it to jump ahead one minute. Before class one morning they succeeded in advancing the clock by ten minutes. Since the new time indicated that the professor was beyond the accepted starting time, the class left. The professor never said a word about the incident. However, he presented the class with a killer of a final exam. As the students labored to finish in the allotted time, the professor amused himself by tossing erasers at the clock.
Don't clock anybody, let them all clock you, Don't be down with anybody, let them all be down with you. Stay self-managed, self-kept, self-taught, Be your own man; don't be borrowed, don't be bought.
Lyrics are weak, like clock radio speakers.
Uh oh, it's beer o'clock, I think I'm sober. How about we think this over, over a can of King Cobra?
Today in America, unions have a secure place in our industrial life. Only a handful of reactionaries harbor the ugly thought of breaking unions and depriving working men and women of the right to join the union of their choice. I have no use for those - regardless of their political party - who hold some vain and foolish dream of spinning the clock back to days when organized labor was huddled, almost as a hapless mass. Only a fool would try to deprive working men and women of the right to join the union of their choice.
The early commitments, early recruiting, that had changed. The whole clock is pushed ahead and you have to make decisions earlier about who to and who not to recruit. Is that a good thing I'm not sure, but it is reality.
I am grateful to learn from their mistakes, because I am not injecting s- into my face. I see them and my heart breaks. I think, 'Oh God, if you only know how much older you look.' They are trying to stop the clock and all you can see is an insecure person who won't let themselves just age. I also have a fiancé who will put a gun to my head if I touch my face in any way.
CLOCK, n. A machine of great moral value to man, allaying his concern for the future by reminding him what a lot of time remains to him.
If the [captured Israeli] soldiers are not returned, we will turn Lebanon's clock back 20 years.
Most technological advances in our life now come from serendipitous discoveries. That is a contraction of rocket technology and computer technology and atomic clock technology.
I like the dream, like fantasy dresses. Women can dream at 9 in the morning and at 10 o’clock at night, it doesn’t matter. I think it is also important for me to make it pragmatic and practical and wearable. I always say, 'If you can’t eat it, it’s not food, and if you can’t wear it, it’s not fashion, it is something else.'
My rhymes are like shot clocks, interstate cops and blood clots, my point is your flow gets stopped.
Something amazing happens when the rest of the world is sleeping. I am glued to my chair. I forget that I ever wanted to do anything but write. The crowded city, the crowded apartment, and the crowded calendar suddenly seem spacious. Three or four hours pass in a moment; I have no idea what time it is, because I never check the clock. If I chose to listen, I could hear the swish of taxis bound for downtown bars or the soft saxophone riffs that drift from a neighbor's window, but nothing gets through. I am suspended in a sensory deprivation tank, and the very lack of sensation is delicious.
Toward seven o'clock every morning, I leave my study and step Out on the bright terrace; the sun already burns resplendent Between the shadows of the fig tree, makes the low wall of coarse Granite warm to the touch. Here my tools lie ready and waiting, Each one an intimate, an ally: the round basket for weeds: The zappetta, the small hoe with a short haft . . . There's a rake here as well, at at times a mattock and spade, Or two watering cans filled with water warmed by the sun. With my basket and small hoe in hand, facing the sun, I Go out for my morning walk.
It was an impressive achievement, of course, and a human achievement by the members of the IBM team, but Deep Blue was only intelligent the way your programmable alarm clock is intelligent. Not that losing to a $10 million alarm clock made me feel any better.
Repeating moves in an ending can be very useful. Apart from the obvious gain of time on the clock one notices that the side with the advantage gains psychological benefit.
Lips half-willing in a doorway. Lips half-singing at a window. Eyes half-dreaming in the walls. Feet half-dancing in a kitchen. Even the clocks half-yawn the hours And the farmers make half-answers.
Excellence is never granted to man but as the reward of labor. It argues no small strength of mind to persevere in habits of industry without the pleasure of perceiving those advances, which, like the hand of a clock, whilst they make hourly approaches to their point, yet proceed so slowly as to escape observation.
I looked upon a clock to find the truth. The hours were passing like ivory chess figures, striking piano notes, and the minutes raced on wires mounted like tin soldiers. Hours like tall ebony women with gongs between their legs, tolling continuously so that I could not count them. I heard the rolling of my heart-beats; I heard the footsteps of my dreams, and the beat of time was lost among them like the face of truth.
Kariakin-Shirov saw another theoretical battle in the 6...Bc5 Spanish, which has been one of the opening tabiyas of the event. [...] The most remarkable feature of the game, and a testament to the depth of Kariakin's preparation, is that when the draw was agreed at move 39, his clock showed 1.52 remaining, some twelve minutes more than he started the game with!
When my opponent's clock is going I discuss general considerations in an internal dialogue with myself. When my own clock is going I analyse conctrete variations.
The three-o'-clock in the morning courage, which Bonaparte thought was the rarest.
The ability of dandelions to tell the time is somewhat exaggerated, owing to the fact that there is always one seed that refuses to be blown off; the time usually turns out to be 37 o'clock.
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