I was just getting out of a shootaround in Milwaukee when I found out. I took out my insoles (from my shoes) and I was out of there.
To throw a shoe at a man in Dundee is the equivalent of a kiss on the cheek and an embrace in London. Dundee is a very different place; they have their own rules.
One fan asked me to sign their sock. That was crazy. They just took off their shoe and handed me their sock and asked if I'd sign it.
Seeing the lightest and gayest purple was then most in fashion, he would always wear that which was the nearest black; and he would often go out of doors, after his morning meal, without either shoes or tunic; not that he sought vain-glory from such novelties, but he would accustom himself to be ashamed only of what deserves shame, and to despise all other sorts of disgrace.
I always said I was determined to own a truly global brand. I didn't buy Jimmy Choo just to have a couple of shoe shops in London, did I?
It doesn't matter what you are wearing-if you have good shoes and a good bag, you'll look right.
Perfectionism may look good in his shiny shoes, but he’s a little bit of an asshole and no one invites him to their pool parties.
I'm an organizational fanatic. I created a locker room that the children pass through when they come in the house. Each child has a personal locker, and every day when they arrive home from school, they dump their stuff there-backpacks, shoes, soccer uniforms. I organize them by season.
Smuggling poems out of prison in the soles of mt shoes i'm way past finding salvation in the arms of a woman, I look out my window and see burning flowers and starving armies but when I look up into the night sky I see the souls of dead heroes
If a man's fortune does not fit him, it is like the shoe in the story; if too large it trips him up, if too small it pinches him.
I've always been interested in films where you can identify with the actors. Where you can be in their shoes and therefore be more involved if they're people that you recognize.
Every girl needs a shoe that goes with nothing and therefore goes with everything.
When I went back to visit my native Berlin after World War II, I noticed that the only thing I really remembered from my childhood Berlin days is the shoe store.
Empathy requires something extremely difficult: accepting the fact that we are not and never will be in the other person's shoes. There's no rational, universal course because individuals have different goals, different worldviews and different experiences.
I ask myself more questions than Hamlet as I ponder which shoes to wear
Growing up in the Bay Area, I played early on with these quartet groups who set guidelines for me. I remember the guys would all have the same clothes and shoes, like these uniforms. I was in awe.
I'm not a goody-two-shoes. I'm just a father with four children.
What I always tell my clients is to put yourself in your potential customer's shoes - what would you want to hear about this story/book and does this [marketing material] deliver that information?
What you are lies with you. If you are lazy, and accept your lot, you may live in it. If you are willing to work, you can write your name anywhere you choose, among the only ones who live beyond the grave in this world, the people who write books that help, make exquisite music, carve statues, paint pictures, and work for others. Never mind the calico dress, and the coarse shoes. Work at you books, and before long you will hear yesterday's tormentors boasting that they were once classmates of yours.
The really great thing about my shoe store is that there's not one dead animal in it.
Being constantly with children was like wearing a pair of shoes that were expensive and too small. She couldn't bear to throw them out, but they gave her blisters.
On occasion I have observed parents shopping to clothe a son about to enter missionary service. The new suits are fitted, the new shoes are laced, and shirts, socks, and ties are bought in quantity. I met one father who said to me, 'Brother Monson, I want you to meet my son.' Pride popped his buttons; the cost of the clothing emptied his wallet; love filled his heart. Tears filled my eyes when I noticed that his [the father's] suit was old, his shoes well worn; but he felt no deprivation. The glow on his face was a memory to cherish.
A Roman divorced from his wife, being highly blamed by his friends, who demanded, "Was she not chaste? Was she not fair? Was she not fruitful?" holding out his shoe, asked them whether it was not new and well made. "Yet," added he, "none of you can tell where it pinches me.''
I know the community mostly for its art and culture... and of course its food, I eat at their restaurants." "They make you feel like taking off your shoes... it feels like home.
We have to compete in a universe of 200 networks, so we have to carve out our own niche, and to me, that niche is just basic shoe-leather journalism with some good journalists at the helm you can trust as presenters.
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