When you're frustrated with people, when they've made you angry, it just may be because you haven't given them enough time.
I've spent enough time behind a bar that I've formed a few opinions about what people wear and what it says about them. Guys who wear black from head to toe fall into two categories: they want to be trouble, or they are trouble.
Secrets of the heart. We swallow hard against them every day, forcing them deep inside us. There they sit, growing heavier, festering. Given enough time, they cannot help but crush the heart that holds them.
I never wanted to live forever," she says. "I just wanted enough time.
She may have had enough time to deal with things. What if she does come back? What will you do?" Grant asked me. What would I do? I'd beg.
The Princess and the Pea?" Gabrielle suggested. "Not enough time," Kat said "Where's Waldo?" Gabrielle went on. "No." Hamish recoiled. "I am still not allowed back in Morocco.
I just didn’t spend enough time with my job.
The avalanche of time sweeps everything before it. Every individual instant hurtles into oblivion, drowning out the obliteration of the instant immediately preceding it, and then it too disappears under the onslaught of the next and the next and the next. When the avalanche has shuddered past for a long enough time, the perception of the past evolves. Distant events grow beyond mere history and take on the weight of legend.
We barely have enough time to figure out who we are and then we become bitter and isolated as we age.
We try to solve the problem by rushing through the design process so that enough time is left at the end of the project to uncover the errors that were made because we rushed through the design process
I always say if you've seen good acting on television, those actors are really good. Because there's just not enough time. You don't have any preparation.
The worst way to read, he said, is with the thought that you do not have enough time. The only way to read is in the knowledge that there is an infinite amount of time stretching ahead, and that if one wishes to taste only afew sentences per day one is free to do so.
We get done with the game, and it's an absolute downpour 30 minutes later. That's when I thought God was telling me that's enough-time for you to go do something else
I think once I fail enough as a dad, I'll be looking for help wherever I can get it. I just need enough time to screw things up and then I'll start looking to TV dads for advice.
In Hawaii they say, "aloha." That's a nice one, It means both "hello" and "good-bye" Which just goes to show, if you spend enough time in the sun you don't know whether you're coming or going.
I'm not used to not having enough time to live with the songs. Usually, if I write something, I live with it for a little while.
One's god dictates the kind of law one implements and also controls the application and development of that law over time. Given enough time, all non-Christian systems of law self-destruct in a fit of tyranny.
You do good work for a long-enough time, I believed, and you'd get noticed.
You will not even have enough time to go online and download all the patches to your computer before it is infected.
Stop lying. There isn't enough time left.
If you tell people enough times that they are unhappy, incomplete, possibly insane and definitely selfish there is bound to come a grey morning when they wake up with the beginning of a nasty cold and wonder if they are lonely rather than simply “alone.”
Two years gives you enough time to grow and to change, and to, you know, change your priorities. Change where you live, change your hair, change what you believe in, change who you hang out with, what’s influencing you, what’s inspiring you. And in the process of all of those changes in the last two years, my music changed.
These walls are funny. First you hate 'em, then you get used to 'em. Enough time passes, you get so you depend on them. That's institutionalized.
What I'm not sure about, is if our lives have been so different from the lives of the people we save. We all complete. Maybe none of us really understand what we've lived through, or feel we've had enough time.
And our lips. There isn't enough skin, enough spit, enough time, for the lost years that our lips are trying to make up for as they find each other. We kiss. The electric current switches to high. The lights throughout all of Brooklyn must be surging.
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