This next song is about when you get your heart broken and you try your best to glue it back together and you wake up one morning and you're so happy because you realize, Oh my God, the tape's holding!
All your clear and pleasing sentences will fall apart if you don't keep remembering that writing is linear and sequential, that logic is the glue that holds it together, that tension must be maintained from one sentence to the next and from one paragraph to the next and from one section to the next, and that narrative - good old-fashioned storytelling - is what should pull your readers along without their noticing the tug.
He put Ben Gay inside my jock strap and filled my tooth paste tube up with glue.
We women. as glue for the family. lead lives that are important and conflicted. What we women choose to give up for our families is important and valid.
Always do what you say you are going to do. It is the glue and fiber that binds successful relationships.
Accountability is the glue that ties commitment to the result.
Positive words are the glue that holds relationships together.
How come when you mix water and flour together you get glue...and then you add eggs and sugar and you get cake? Where does the glue go?
Trust is the glue in relationships and organizations
Tempo is the glue that sticks all elements of the golf swing together.
Trust is the glue that holds everything together.
Teamwork is the glue which binds losers together
Trust is the glue that holds relationships together.
Christmas works like glue, it keeps us all sticking together.
Giving and receiving love is vital to human existence. It is the glue that binds couples, families, communities, cultures, and nations.
Without a twich of exertion, Redd sealed his lips with glue. "Who wants to kill him?" The Cat raised a paw. Siren and Alistare raised their hands. "Mmmmmm mmm mmm," protested Jack.
What an unreliable thing is time--when I want it to fly, the hours stick to me like glue. And what a changeable thing, too. Time is the twine to tie our lives into parcels of years and months. Or a rubber band stretched to suit our fancy. Time can be the pretty ribbon in a little girl's hair. Or the lines in your face, stealing your youthful colour and your hair. .... But in the end, time is a noose around the neck, strangling slowly.
I don’t know what I saw. It could’ve been a hallucination. You get those from sniffing glue.” “You’ve never sniffed glue!” “I’ve smelled glue,” Jamie said after a pause. “In art class.
So many humans. So many colours. They keep triggering inside me. They harass my memory. I see them tall in their heaps, all mounted on top of each other. There is air like plastic, a horizon like setting glue. There are skies manufactured by people, punctured and leaking, and there are soft, coal-coloured clouds, beating, like black hearts. And then. There is death. Making his way through all of it. On the surface: unflappable, unwavering. Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.
When a horse falls, foam comes out of its mouth. When it falls, the legs of the horse thrash and the horse is no good... So somebody shoots it. The horse turns into glue. A machine puts the glue into bottles and children squeeze the bottles to get the glue out and stick bits of paper onto cards. Glue gets on the children's hands and the children eat the glue. And the children become the horse.
All of my favourite albums have this incredible amount of conceptual glue to them, even if they are not telling a story.
The BBC is part of the glue which binds the United Kingdom together. At those times of national moment - of joy or sadness, in the UK or around the world, at times when the nation wants to celebrate, mourn or just enjoy itself people turn to the BBC.
Learning to decipher words had only added to the pleasures of holding spines and turning pages, measuring the journey to the end with a thumb-riffle, poring over frontispieces. Books! Opening with a crackle of old glue, releasing perfume; closing with a solid thump.
Emotions are the glue that holds the cells of the organism together.
That is the nature of endings, it seems. They never end. When all the missing pieces of your life are found, put together with glue of memory and reason, there are more pieces to be found.
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