Eternity is a glorious word, but eternity is ice.
Their toys are alive and can sometimes come to their aid, or get lost and Olie has to find them. They go to other planets. They go to the ice cream planet.
I dreamed you a field of running horses, Selah. For you, Bianca, a balloon the size of the sky, my body a kite you can throw into the air.Pull me by string and horse.Tell me everything won't end in death. That everything doesn't end with February. Dead wildflowers wrapped around a crying baby's throat.I've slowed my heartbeat to three beats a minute. I've redrawn the clouds into birds, a fox chasing them into the mountains.I'm going to move my hand today.I vomit ice cubes.There's a ghost next to me.Get up, Dad.(Light Boxes)
Cycling keeps me lean and I need to stay in shape, especially as I still like eating chocolate and ice-cream! I like to go mountain biking too. Running is also good; it's what we were designed to do as humans, so it comes naturally.
Life is only a flicker of melted ice.
All the plants in my house are dead - I shot them last night. I was teasing them by watering them with ice cubes.
When I was in boy scouts, I slipped on the ice and hurt my ankle. A little old lady had to help me across the street.
"Ice" came in when my friends would say "cold as ice" -- if you could rap and battle people you'd say "Dude, that was ice cold." It had nothing to do with jewelry. Back then, it was like "Your cold, dawg." "Vanilla Ice -- that's cold."
I love cartoons. So when they came to me to make Ice Age and this sequel, I was so happy.
Scientists with access to data from Navy submarines traversing underneath the North polar ice cap have warned that there is now a 75 percent chance that within five years the entire ice cap will completely disappear during the summer months.
If I'm going to understand the land, I have to understand the wind, the snow, the rain, the leaves, the ice, and changes in temperature. It just reflects a reality for me.
Just like ice, lives crack, too. Personalities. Identities.
Watching 40 mile chunks of ice break off of Antarctica will change your life forever, but realizing that driving a car, or flying a plane, or having a nice steak, or drinking from a plastic bottle all contributed to the destruction of the environment - it's a bit complex, but music needs to pave the way for getting people to think about this kind of complexity. I'm just doing my share.
The responsibility of the scientist or journalist is to convey the context. If you're talking about the Arctic Sea ice, you have to embrace the reality that there's a huge number of other things that influence that on a year-to-year basis.
Every writer must have a chip of ice in his heart.
I've got ice water running through my veins, I'm cool.
Society is so tough and expectations are so unrealistic. Could I take better care of myself? Absolutely. I joke all the time that I'm old and I'm getting older and I feel it, so I guess I would rather talk about it with a smile and say, 'Oh God, I'm old!' than spend all my time at the dermatologist. I approach aging with ice cream and a martini.
I spent my summers in Connecticut scooping ice cream and babysitting.
I compose with bells a lot. Bells and breath. Both things you react to without thinking about it. Bells traditionally give us orders: come to the desk, the truck is backing up, the ice cream is here, it's time to go to church. They're sounds our brains are already associated with.
Trying to defend religion by invoking science is like claiming that three plus four equals ice cream.
We were the daughters of the post-World War II American dream, the daughters of those idealized fifties sitcom families in which father knew best and mother knew her place and a kind of disappointment, and tense, unspoken sexuality rattled around like ice cubes in their nightly cocktails.
We are living in a new ice age, and we need to apply the recipes of the Cold War to the Kremlin. That means isolation instead of offers of negotiation. And Ukraine should have been supplied with weapons long ago.
The nickname (Ice Princess) is just based on my looks on the outside , once you get to know me , you'll get to like me.
I went to a place recently I think is one of the most f**ked up places I've ever been to. I'm convinced this place is the epitome of American excess, of American greed. I'm talking about a place called Cold Stone Creamery. Whoa. If you have not been there, the basic gist of Cold Stone is that they take ice cream and then they just go ape sh*t with it.
Love was like rain: it turned into ice, or it disappeared. Now you saw it, now you couldn't find it no matter how hard you might search. Love evaporated; obsession was realer; it hurt, like a pin in your bottom, a stone in your shoe. It didn't go away in the blink of an eye. A morning phone call filled with regret. A letter that said, Dear you, good-bye from me. Obsession tasted like something familiar. Something you'd known your whole life. It settled and lurked; it stayed with you.
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