I'm learning to use others' weaknesses. I don't hammer a man's soft spot constantly, because he may strengthen it. I just save it as a trump up my sleeve for moments when I really need a point.
It's like those eerie stories nurses tell, Of how some actor on a stage played Death, With pasteboard crown, sham orb and tinselled dart, And called himself the monarch of the world; Then, going in the tire-room afterward, Because the play was done, to shift himself, Got touched upon the sleeve familiarly, The moment he had shut the closet door, By Death himself. Thus God might touch a Pope At unawares, ask what his baubles mean, And whose part he presumed to play just now. Best be yourself, imperial, plain and true!
Excluded by my birth and tastes from the social order, I was not aware of its diversity. Nothing in the world was irrelevant: the stars on a general's sleeve, the stock-market quotations, the olive harvest, the style of the judiciary, the wheat exchange, flower-beds. Nothing. This order, fearful and feared, whose details were all inter-related, had a meaning: my exile.
To make fun of a person to his face is a brutal way of amusing one's self; be delicate and cunning, and keep your laugh in your sleeve, lest you frighten away your game.
My father taught that the only helping hand you're ever going to be able to rely on is the one at the end of your sleeve.
It's fun to branch out a bit. I feel like I've held a lot of tricks up my sleeve for a lot of years, and 'Ex-Girlfriends' is a good way to show another side of me.
If I'm hip, we've got a problem in this country. I really shouldn't be held up as any model of hipness. If anything, I think I'm sort of old school in my approach to objective reporting and not wearing my opinion on my sleeve. There's a lot of that in American TV news these days. Too much, in fact.
But you now, you wear your soul on your sleeve, exhausting your energy, propping yourself up on a tree, mumbling, or bent over your desk, asleep. Heaven gives you a form and you wear it out by pointless argument.
I had a lot of times with Wales as well when we were getting beat - and beaten well - and you learn to deal with it. You learn that next time it happens, you roll your sleeves up and give everything for the team.
Could've sworn I heard you say Amen this morning, showing some kind of sign that you believe. Did it fall from your tongue without warning? Or just another trick to fall from your sleeve?
She is laughing up her sleeve at you.
Paris, on the other hand, looked exactly as it was supposed to look. It wore its heart on its sleeve, and the strange thing was that the heart it wore so openly was in other ways so closed-mysterious, uninviting.
Servant-leader ship is all about making the goals clear and then rolling your sleeves up and doing whatever it takes to help people win. In that situation, they don't work for you, you work for them.
I remembered something. There's a man. He is bald and wears a short sleeve shirt. And somehow, he is important to me... I think his name is... Homer.
Commit to Excellence. Become massively innovative and wear your passion on your sleeve. They might call you different or weird or even crazy. But please remember, every great leader (or visionary or brave thinker) was initially laughed at. Now they are revered.
I owe my life to blood donors. They went out, rolled up a sleeve and gave me another chance at life.
I saw the suffering and I let myself feel it… I saw the injustice and was compelled to do something about it. I changed from being a nun who only prayed for the suffering world to a woman with my sleeves rolled up, living my prayer.
So it is that God tugs at a pilgrim's sleeve telling him to remember that he is only human. He must be his own man, remain in exile, and belong to himself. He must pay attention to his own feelings and to the meaning of what he does, if he is to be for himself, and yet for others as well.
I have everything I need. A square of sky, a piece of stone, a page, a pen, and memory raining down on me in sleeves.
There was a spell in the second half when I took my heart off my sleeve and put it in my mouth.
Down the road a bit, I would like to write a couple of stand-alone adult novels, especially in the horror genre. I've got lots of things up my sleeve.
The Gods on the death of his wife Yang Kai-hui I lost my proud poplar and you your willow As poplar and willow they soar straight up into the ninth heaven and ask the prisoner of the moon, Wu Kang' what is there. He offers them wine from the cassia tree. The lonely lady on the moon, Chang 0, spreads her vast sleeves and dances for these good souls in the unending sky. Down on earth a sudden report of the tiger's defeat. Tears fly down from a great upturned bowl of rain.
Let everyone witness how many different cards fortune has up her sleeve when she wants to ruin a man.
I'm just a guy who rolls up his sleeves and goes to work!
Fluted sleeves or any sleeve that flares out before coming in again at the wrist are very feminine and a great way to distract from the dreaded 'bingo wings.'
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