I could feel the winter shaking my bones and banging my teeth together.
Ashley tugged on his sleeve. "You're scaring me Walter." "Sorry I guess talking about ghosts is-" "It's not that," she interrupted shaking her head. "You're using logic. That's scaring me." Walters eyebrows knitted. "So much for terms of endearment
The most work he did on [the urinals] was to run a brush once or twice apiece, singing some song as loud as he could in time to the swishing brush; then he'd splash in some Clorox and he'd be through. ... And when the Big Nurse...came in to check McMurphy's cleaning assignment personally, she brought a little compact mirror and she held it under the rim of the bowls. She walked along shaking her head and saying, "Why, this is an outrage... an outrage..." at every bowl. McMurphy sidled right along beside her, winking down his nose and saying in answer, "No; that's a toilet bowl...a TOILET bowl.
If I ever think you are even considering leaving me again, no matter how good you reasons, I'll have you locked in your rooms and the doors barricaded, so help me God." He lifted her foot and began to dry it. Her voice shaking, Whitney asked, "Will you stay locked in there with me?" He raised her dainty foot to his jaw and tenderly laid his cheek against it, then turned his head and kissed it. "Yes," he whispered. -Clayton Westmoreland
That's something you can't get off the wires in New York is people providing intelligent coverage of what your theater company in Podunk is up to. Many of the people who write what we call amateur criticism are professionals in anything other than name and receiving a paycheck. Very often, they know more than the professional critic who might be writing for their local newspaper. So, really, I'm all for it. It's changing the playing field, it's shaking things up, it's going to make the critical environment a healthier environment.
For me, I go somewhere for three days, and then I come back and I want to change everything, and so it's a fight with everybody. I'm transforming and convincing. It's more than designing. It's shaking people and trying to give them direction. I'm a bit of a control freak. This is a problem as I get older, and it's something I should work on. I should be more confident - learn to trust people and give them freedom and delegate.
There are so many people in this world that have the look and have talent, and yet they keep putting out this teenybopper singers that have no vocal capability at all. Sometimes I think there's no real music anymore. We don't have singers like we did back in the day. Music is supposed to convey a message. Music is supposed to make you feel a certain way. Now, I don't want to hear about big bootie shaking on the floor. Music just isn't what it used to be. I think that with the times changing, labels do actually need to get that and stop signing all these crap artists.
I love to say that not only is the throne room of God a place of reverence, it's always a place of refuge. So when everything else in life seems to be shifting, or breaking and shaking apart, there's a place that is always stable, safe, and constant. When we draw near to God in worship, and approach His throne, we tap into that. It's a very re-assuring place, where we're reminded that there's a God on His throne, and even when we don't understand everything, we can trust it to Him.
I shook so that it was some time before I realized that he was shaking too, and for the same reason. I don't know how long we sat there on the dusty floor, crying in each others arms with the longing of twenty years spilling down our faces.
And Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three red-headed men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood. 'No - no - no!' someone was shouting. 'No! Fred! No!' And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.
As for you, Private, if you mention a word of this to anyone, I'll feed you to the cat thing here. Understand?" "Yum," said Mogget. "Yes, sir!" mumbled the telephone operator, his hands shaking as he tried to smother the burning wreckage of his switchboard with a fire blanket.
Over the summer we chatted one night while Angie stripped a bed, changed wet sheets, comforted and repajamaed a toddler, and chased down a car of speeding teenagers while shaking a brick at them, never once interrupting the conversation or setting down her margarita. The only reason this woman isn't president of General Motors is because she's chosen not to be.
I like autumn. The drama of it; the golden lion roaring through the back door of the year, shaking its mane of leaves. A dangerous time; of violent rages and deceptive calm, of fireworks in the pockets and conkers in the fist.
To survive, to avert what we have termed future shock, the individual must become infinitely more adaptable and capable than ever before. We must search out totally new ways to anchor ourselves, for all the old roots - religion, nation, community, family, or profession - are now shaking under the hurricane impact of the accelerative thrust. It is no longer resources that limit decisions, it is the decision that makes the resources.
You just looked..." she said, searching for the word, "taken, you know? Plus you hardly reacted to Wes. I mean, you did alittle, but nothing like most girls. It was a little swoon. Not a sa-woon, you know?" I said, "Sa-woon? Oh, come on," she said shaking her head. "Even a blind girl could tell he is amazing.
The city was asleep on its right side and shaking with violent nightmares. Long puffs of snoring came out of the chimneys. Its feet were sticking out because the clouds did not cover it altogether. There was a hole in them and the white feathers were falling out. The city had untied all its bridges like so many buttons to feel at ease. Wherever there was a lamplight the city scratched itself until it went out.
Grace. I held on to that name. If I kept that in my head, I would be OK. Grace. I was shaking, shaking; my skin peeling away. Grace. My bones squeezed, pinched, pressed against my muscles. Grace. Her eyes held me even after I stopped feeling her fingers gripping my arms. Sam," she said. "Don't go.
It's not that I've suddenly become stronger or that something has changed. I'm still shaking. But... We don't have to let those fears stop us. What's most important is that we try to rise above our weakness.
People would ask me how I could stand the long campaigning, how I could stand being charged with the responsibilities of a great nation, one of the most powerful and difficult jobs in the world. It wasn't any more difficult than picking cotton all day or shaking peanuts.
Teaching and editing have helped me enormously, and brought wonderful people into my life. When I see an author I'm editing struggling to bring a flash of an idea to the page, or notice a student's hands shaking as they read something they wrote out loud for the first time, it keeps things in perspective. How vulnerable we all are. How hard it can be to open the door.
The brutal, soul-shaking truth is that we are so earthly minded we are of no heavenly use.
Peter's faith had many a shaking, but it was established upon the truth of his God, upon the person and work and righteousness of Jesus Christ.
I am constantly surprised that the simple word 'feminism' raises more eyebrows and initiates more sad-faced head-shaking than any elaborate stream of invective I have ever leveled at either the I.R.S. or the D.M.V.
Faith makes all evil good to us, and all good better; unbelief makes all good evil, and all evil worse. Faith laughs at the shaking of the spear; unbelief trembles at the shaking of a leaf.
A party is a slightly artificial event where one learns the rudiments of human behavior at its most admirable: speaking when spoken to, looking somebody in the eye, shaking hands and being friendly under duress.
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