Driving fast on the track does not scare me. What scares me is when I drive on the highway I get passed by some idiot who thinks he is Fangio.
As I went walking That ribbon of highway I saw above me The endless skyway I saw below me The lonesome valley This land was made for you and me.
Some do not walk at all; others walk in the highways; a few walk across lots.
Because you remember Meredith was walking along the highway there and somebody shot him.
The most excellent and divine counsel, the best and most profitable advertisement of all others, but the least practised, is to study and learn how to know ourselves. This is the foundation of wisdom and the highway to whatever is good. . . . God, Nature, the wise, the world, preach man, exhort him both by word and deed to the study of himself.
The spine is the highway to the Infinite. Your own body is the temple of God. It is within your own self that God must be realized.
You don't believe in Nature anymore. It's too isolated from you. You've abstracted it. It's so messy and damaged and sad. Your eyes glaze as you travel life's highway past all the crushed animals and the Big Gulp cups.
Highway spending, which I think most everybody says is badly needed in this country, creates American jobs, and also makes America more competitive.
There's something arbitrary about taking a picture. So I can stand at the edge of a highway and take one step forward and it can be a natural landscape untouched by man and I can take one step back and include a guardrail and change the meaning of the picture radically... I can take a picture of a person at one moment and make them look contemplative and photograph them two seconds later and make them look frivolous.
The driver on the highway is safe not when He reads the signs, but when He obeys them.
The highways of American cities are an enduring testimony to our acceptance of ugliness
For nearly a quarter of a century, I have been engaged in the investigation of the fundamentals of life, the material universe and human behavior. Such an adventure leads one down many highways, through many byroads, into many back alleys of uncertainty, through many strata of life...
The simple act of having a camera, not a cell phone, but a camera-camera, there’s a kind of a heightened perceptional awareness that occurs. Like, I could walk from here to the highway in two minutes, but if I had a camera, that walk could take me two hours.
Don't let your church be a cul-de-sac on the Great Commission highway.
The snow had begun in the gloaming, and busily all the night had been heaping field and highway with a silence deep and white.
Rivers are the primal highways of life. From the crack of time, they had borne men's dreams, and in their lovely rush to elsewhere, fed our wanderlust, mimicked our arteries, and charmed our imaginations in a way the static pond or vast and savage ocean never could.
If you travel around America you see different sections of highways donated by this or that person, and that's a slow beginning of what may end up being a situation common in the Third World: some sections of highways in wealthy areas are beautifully maintained and other parts are just dirt-strewn potholes.
Future generations, riding on the highways that we built, I hope they have a better understanding.
A fuel prices remain unstable and our nation's highways and airports suffer ever-increasing congestion and delays, Amtrak offers an invaluable alternative upon which Americans have come to rely
That which,like a sea, threatens to drown you- shall be a highway for your escape
May you be children of God, pure and unblameable, in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation (cf. Phil. 1:15): and may you never be entangled in the snares of the wicked that go round about, or bound with the chains of your sins. May the Word in you never be smothered with the cares of this life and so make you unfruitful: but may you walk in the King's Highway, turning aside neither to the right hand nor to the left, but led by the Spirit through the narrow gate.
Do you remember the church across the sands? You stood outside and planned to travel the lands, where the pilgrims go. So you packed your world up inside a canvas sack, set off down the highway with your rings and Kerouac. Someone said they saw you in Nepal a long time back. Tell me why you look away, don't you have a word to say?
Roadrunner, roadrunner, going faster miles an hour. Gonna drive past the Stop 'n' Shop, with the radio on. I'm in love with Massachusetts and the neon when it's cold outside. And the highway when it's late at night. Got the radio on, I'm like the roadrunner.
There's not 20 ways. It's not your way. It's either God's way or the highway. That's it. If you want to get to heaven, you have to come God's way, and the way that God established was the way of His Son dying on the cross.
Surrender. That's an interesting term. We tend to see all forms of surrender as negative--war, sports, highway on-ramps. You'd never hear us describing a relationship as a type of surrender. But maybe we should. Is it wrong to cede the solo to the duet. Surrender doesn't mean you lose, only that you no longer wish to fight.
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