He was not used to the smell of dragon breath, which is best described as a combination of the stench of burning rubber and the stink of old socks, with overtones of a hamster cage in dire need of a cleaning.
What are you listening to?" "I picked up a DVD for Luke while I was out. Something with Mozart and sock puppets." A grin rose to my lips. "At this stage I don't think Luke can see more than ten inches beyond his face." "That explains his lack of interest. I thought maybe he preferred Beethoven.
This is going to sound crazy, but the first thing I do when I get home is take off all my clothes - at home, just around the house. I take everything off. I can't stand clothes! I take everything off - my shoes, my socks, my watch, shirt, everything. I am completely naked.
One girl came up to me - I remember it so vividly - she said, "You're not fit to model socks." It crushed me. But at the same time, it made me unbelievably determined to prove everybody wrong and prove to myself that I could live an incredible life.
I make napkins talk in restaurants, socks talk on car journeys. There is an awful lot of puppetry going on in the house.
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.
As many times as [HIV] changes its clothes, it's still wearing the same socks, and now our job is to make sure we get the body to really hate those socks.
What is a 'thing'? All is movement, a flowing. How stupid it is to speak of the 'mind'. There is a body; there is a mind: they are mixed up together. Shakespeare with a hole in his sock will not write the sonnet of a Shakespeare with socks intact.
What our generation failed to learn was the nobility of work. An honest day's labor. The worthiness of the man in the white socks who would pull out a picture of his grandkids from his wallet. For us, the factory would never do. And turning away from our birthright - our grandfather in the white socks - is the thing that ruined us.
Jung Min’s palms are always sweating and he wears strange socks!
Mummy, I woke today and there was a Lincoln Log in me sock drawer! ... That's the story of Jesus.
Without a doubt there are women who would vote intelligently. There are also men who knit socks beautifully.
My signature look is an eighties baby doll dress, combat boots with colorful socks sticking out, and then mounds of jewelry. I love silver and turquoise. I go to Montana every winter, so I hunt around for cool pieces there.
No money, holes in my socks, living off oatmeal.
In my hand luggage I always have my camera, iPod, make-up bag, tooth brush, cleansing products, clean underwear, socks and a change of clothes in case anything goes missing at the other end - and of course my passport.
Everybody tells me that they would love to knit, but they don't have time. I look at people's lives and I can see opportunity and time for knitting all over the place. The time spent riding the bus each day? That's a pair of socks over a month. Waiting in line? Mittens. Watching TV? Buckets of wasted time that could be an exquisite lace shawl.
I used to be teased for the way I wore my hair at school. I used to do things like wear a different-colored sock on each leg.
For a lifetime I had bathed with becoming regularity, and thought the world would come to an end unless I changed my socks every day. But in Africa I sometimes went without a bath for two months, and I went two weeks at a time without even changing my socks. Oddly enough, it didn't seem to make much difference.
When I was 7, I came up with the idea of 'charm socks.' My mom would take me to buy bags of plastic charms, we would sew them on frilly white socks, and I sold them at school.
It's great to sit and talk about the films and the people I work with, rather than where I buy my socks or whatever.
Four years ago nobody but nuclear physicists had ever heard of the Internet. Today even my cat, Socks, has his own web page. I'm amazed at that. I meet kids all the time, been talking to my cat on the Internet.
The verb 'to darn' is explained in my pocket dictionary as follows: 'To mend by imitating the texture of the stuff, with thread and needle.' But this definition does not correspond to the work accomplished by good Chinese housewives. When they mend a sock, they do not try 'to imitate the texture of the stuff'. Their art makes no attempt at concealment: it even takes a certain pride in revealing itself.
A plain sock by itself is terribly boring, but it could score points by having a clever stitch pattern, or maybe by being made out of a very beautiful yarn that's an enchantment to work with. (Sadly, it is still infuriatingly true that being beautiful without being clever is almost worth more points than being clever without being beautiful, but such are the rules of life and knitting-they are cruel, but there anyway).
Men who marry for gratification, propagation or the matter of buttons or socks, must expect to cope with and deal in a certain amount of quibble, subterfuge, concealments, and double, deep-dyed prevarication.
That's silly talk... Talk to my wife. She'll tell me I need to learn to just put my socks on the hamper.
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