We come spinning out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust.
Beauty is everlasting And dust is for a time.
All we are is dust in the wind, dude.
Write your injuries in dust, your benefits in marble.
The soul, which is spirit, can not dwell in dust; it is carried along to dwell in the blood.
Our lives are but specks of dust falling through the fingers of time. Like sands of the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.
...the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.
Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.
You either make dust or eat dust.
His success may be great, but be it ever so great the wheel of fortune may turn again and bring him down into the dust.
It is true that we are made of dust. And the world is also made of dust. But the dust has motes rising.
Even the facts of science may dust the mind by their dryness, unless they are ... rendered fertile by the dews of fresh and living truth. Knowledge does not come to us by details, but in flashes of light from heaven.
It appears to me impossible that I should cease to exist, or that this active, restless spirit, equally alive to joy and sorrow, should be only organized dust.
Adversity is the diamond dust Heaven polishes its jewels with.
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Then the dust will return to the earth as it was, and the spirit will return to God who gave it.
Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.
There isn't a flaw in his golf or his makeup. He will win more majors than Arnold Palmer and me combined. Somebody is going to dust my records. It might as well be Tiger, because he's such a great kid.
Awards become corroded, friends gather no dust.
Names, once they are in common use, quickly become mere sounds, their etymology being buried, like so many of the earth's marvels, beneath the dust of habit.
From the solemn gloom of the temple children run out to sit in the dust, God watches them play and forgets the priest.
I draw the line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the feet of tyranny, and I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.
An idea can turn to dust or magic, depending on the talent that rubs against it.
Jazz washes away the dust of every day life.
Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.
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