When Clemson players rub that rock and run down the hill, it's the most exciting 25 seconds in college football.
Magic is antiphysics, so it can't really exist. But is shares one thing with science. I can explain the principle behind a good science experiment in 15 seconds; the same way with magic.
It takes two seconds to tell the truth and it costs nothing. A lie takes time and it costs everything.
In Grimm's fairy tales, you kiss a frog and in two seconds, it becomes a prince. That is a fairy tale. In evolution, you kiss a frog and in two million years, it becomes a prince.
In the next few galactic seconds, the fate of the universe will be decided. Life - the ultimate experiment - will either explode into space, and engulf the star-clouds in a fire storm of children, trees, and butterfly wings; or Life will fail, fizzle, and gutter out, leaving the universe shrouded forever in impenetrable blankness, devoid of hope.
What is an "instant" death anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.
I cannot recall a more engaging passage in fiction, and I've been trying for almost eighteen seconds.
Like backstage, I just peed like every 3 seconds. I think yur staff thinks I have diarrhea.
No one coaches what to do after three seconds, after the quarterback's broken the pocket or he's been in the pocket for five, six seconds.
Time, we know, is relative. You can travel light years through the stars and back, and if you do it at the speed of light then, when you return, you may have aged mere seconds while your twin brother or sister will have aged twenty, thirty, forty or however many years it is, depending on how far you traveled. This will come to you as a profound shock, particularly if you didn't know you had a twin brother or sister.
Did you know a child is orphaned by AIDS every 15 seconds. Millions of children are going it alone. Missing their childhood. Missing their mother. Missing their father. AIDS is devastating families around the globe. Children are missing your support. Unite for children. Unite against AIDS.
When the light is right and everything is working for me, I feel as tense as when making a difficult maneuver high on a mountain. A minute - and sometimes mere seconds - can make the difference between a superb image and a mundane one.
This idea fascinates me. The idea that a few seconds of watching a photographer in action can tell you his/her status in the medium. And it's true. If you watch a photographer of merit working an event he/she does not look like an amateur.
A hundredth of a second here, a hundredth of a second there-even if you put them end to end, they still only add up to one, two, perhaps three seconds, snatched from eternity.
There is no art which affords less opportunity to execute expression than photography. Everything is concentrated in a few seconds, when after perhaps an hours seeking, waiting, and hesitation, the photographer sees the realization of his inward vision, and in that moment he has one advantage over most arts - his medium is swift enough to record his momentary inspiration.
We're all hoping to drop at least a few seconds in the finals. There's a lot of girls that didn't even swim this morning that will be racing us tonight, so we are going to be in the mindset that we are still just as fresh.
This song of the waters is audible to every ear, but there is other music in these hills, by no means audible to all. On a still night, when the campfire is low and the Pleiades have climbed over rimrocks, sit quietly and listen, and think hard of everything you have seen and tried to understand. Then you may hear it - a vast pulsing harmony - its score inscribed on a thousand hills, its notes the lives and deaths of plants and animals, its rhythms spanning the seconds and the centuries.
Love is two minutes and fifty-two seconds of squishy sounds.
I may be flying a complicated airplane, rushing through space, but in this cabin I'm surrounded by simplicity and thoughts set free of time. How detached the intimate things around me seem from the great world down below. How strange is this combination of proximity and separation. That ground - seconds away - thousands of miles away. This air, stirring mildly around me. That air, rushing by with the speed of a tornado, an inch beyond. These minute details in my cockpit. The grandeur of the world outside. The nearness of death. The longness of life.
As a songwriter, I try not to be sloppy; same with the music. You can be very lean, very efficient, so you're not wasting a lot of time getting' to the point. You're saying it with as pure a word or phrase as you can. That's the part that was craft. You refine and refine and refine. Maybe that's why the songs still hang on, because they're very pure. For one thing, they're very short. "Bad Moon Rising" is like 2 minutes and 12 seconds. I would try to do everything as quickly and with as little extra as possible. It was a challenge.
I swear I have at least one good song idea a day. But if I don't get pen to paper in ten seconds, it's gone forever.
The flight was extremely normal . . . for the first 36 seconds then after that got very interesting.
Em reminds me of one of my friends from back home. It was just so natural. I forgot in two seconds that he was the biggest-selling artist of the decade. He knows what he’s doing. Me and him mixed [the song] together and he’s not like somebody that’s telling somebody what to do. We were both on the board turning knobs. The atmosphere and the vibe down there was just super cool.
I could be with a woman in a bed, for weeks even, and it would seem to me like three seconds. Or 300 years.
Reputation, you know – a lifetime to build, seconds to destroy.
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