Players come and go, good friends, players who performed well. You can't control that.
Like the sun that sets at the end of the day, so too will Ramadan come and go, leaving only it's mark on our heart's sky.
Answers come and go, I've found. But the questions? Those remain forever.
I think it tends to be overused and can be a little bit gimmicky. A lot of people are using 3-D now because they feel have they have to... that will come and go and the pictures that deserve to be in 3-D will continue to be. When it's done bad, it can make you carsick.
Bodies come and go, ages come and go, yugas come and go, eternities come and go. Selves come and go.
More than anything, it's a game of innocence. Politicians may come and go, but they always get booed at the ballpark.
I love what I think, and I'm never tempted to believe it. Thoughts are like the wind or the leaves on the trees or the raindrops falling. They're not personal, they don't belong to us, they just come and go. When they're met with understanding, they're friends.
The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose.
Are you your clothes? Are you your name? Are you your profession? Stop identifying with them. They come and go
Fashion is transient, trends come and go. I believe in style, not fashion.
I think it would be great to be a cat! You come and go as you please. People always feed and pet you. They don't expect much of you. You can play with them, and when you've had enough, you go away. You can pick and choose who you want to be around. You can't ask for more than that.
Value is the most invincible and impalpable of ghosts, and comes and goes unthought of, while the visible and dense matter remains as it was.
Passion is like waves; it comes and goes. Compassion is the constant flow.
Be as though you don't exist. Let the bodily functions unfold, let thoughts come and go but don't follow them. Be only the awareness. Something is unplugged, but you are still fully here. Senses are functioning normally. This was never the trouble. The mind rises up as resistances and doubts but they are mere thoughts. Mind in its psychological aspect can come full power, but you are not to be a traffic policeman inside your own head.
Running is many things to me: survival, calmness, euphoria, solitude. It is proof of my corporeal existence, my ability to control my movement through space if not time, and the obedience, however temporary, of my body to my will. As I run I displace air, and things come and go around me, and the path moves like a filmstrip beneath my feet.
Once, at a seminar, I heard a Westernized lama say that a meditator's state of mind should be like that of a hotel doorman. A doorman lets the guests in, but he doesn't follow them up to their rooms. He lets them out, but he doesn't walk into the street with them to their next appointment. He greets them all, then lets them go on about their business. Meditation is, in its initial stages, simply accustoming oneself to letting thoughts come and go without grasping at their sleeves or putting up a velvet rope to keep them out.
I have lovely memories of Los Angeles in the 1930s. I came down to live with my mother's cousin and they invited me to come and go to junior college for a year.
Oh, thank you love With all my heart and soul I thank you love Each day that comes and goes I thank you love I thank you 'cause you gave me true love
The Glory is the issue to me. Money comes and goes, but a legacy stays forever. I hate to lose
We want to know what our self is. We are the sky. Our thoughts are the birds that come and go. You can enjoy the birds and their beauty, but it is the sky that lasts.
Cooking is great, love is grand, but soufflés fall and lovers come and go. But you can always depend on a book!
Nominations come and go. It is not going to happen to you every year, and I am very well aware of that
Memory, faith, and the natural world as both witness to the cycle of human life and healer to a questioning heart are at the core of this lovely and lyrical collection of poems. The weather changes, people come and go from cities and towns, babies are born, grow up and depart from their parents’ arms, but still, the countryside and its rituals sustain the people and creatures who know how to read the signs of the seasons. In these pages, Laura Grace Weldon shares those signs with us; her poems are the fruit of a wonderful harvest.
You can't die. Bodies come and go but your spirit is eternal. You're the stuff that life is.
I have since only rarely seen the tree with the lights in it. The vision comes and goes, mostly goes, but I live for it, for the moment when the mountains open and a new light roars in spate through the crack, and the mountains slam.
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