Lawyers earn a living by the sweat of browbeating others.
A man who doesn't dream is like a man who doesn't sweat. He stores up a lot of poison.
I really love going to shows where I'm sandwiched between people, and you don't know if the sweat on you is yours or the person's next to you.
We learn to love our sweat, we discover our passion to move and connect it to effort, we discover both the animal in us and the power of our imagination
It's a story of little girls who are pressed into working in sweat shops in games, who spend all day doing repetitive grinding tasks like making shirts, which are then converted into gold and sold on eBay.
I believe in striving for excellence. I sweat the big and small stuff! I do not apologize for this.
Here's a two step formula for handling stress. Step number one: Don't sweat the small stuff. Step number two: Remember it's all small stuff.
Becoming a real researcher has been the ultimate humbling experience for me. Nature is the examiner from hell; if you find new things at all, you always find them the hard way, with sweat and tears. Only then do you notice that there was a really easy way to find them. But this insight rarely arrives before you have been utterly humiliated and reduced to despair.
I believe in living, I believe in birth, I believe in the sweat of love and in the fire of truth and I believe that a lost ship, steered by tired, sea sick sailors, can still be guided home to port
The cosmos doesn’t measure sweat and hours for reward. The cosmos deals in the currencies of joy and satisfaction.
I am a 21st century man. I don’t believe in magic. I believe in sweat, tears, life and death.
I just want to be in my sweats, walk my dog, watch TV and eat pizza.
My God, this novel makes me break out in a cold sweat! Do you know how much I've written in five months, since the end of August? Sixty-five pages! Each paragraph is good in itself and there are some pages that are perfect. I feel certain. But just because of this, it isn't getting on. It's a series of well-turned, ordered paragraphs which do not flow on from each other. I shall have to unscrew them, loosen the joints, as one does with the masts of a ship when one wants the sail to take more wind.
There are two rules in life: Rule #1: Don't sweat the small stuff. Rule #2: Everything is small stuff.
I look at my cancer journey as a gift: It made me slow down and realisethe important things in life and taught me to not sweat the small stuff.
In the cocoon, there is no idea of light at all, until we experience some longing for openness, some longing for something other than the smell of our own sweat. When we examine that comfortable darkness - look at it, smell it, feel it - we find it is claustrophobic.
After that, I specifically started writing lyrics. I would like sweat and think and get it all together.
Art is 110 percent sweat.
I am in an endless journey towards an infinite route, only to find a real world of humanity. This thirst is eternal. I will keep walking, touching every faces I drop through my lens. I will show the world - those unknown stories of sufferings. If a single hand comes to give them a shade that is the real honor of my sweat
Not every legend is a myth, some are flesh and blood. Some legends walk among us, but they aren’t born, they’re built. Legends are made from iron & sweat, mind and muscle, blood and vision and victory. Legends are champions, they grow, they win, they conquer. There’s a legend behind every legacy, there’s a blueprint behind every legend.
In prayer I was exceedingly enlarged, and my soul was as much drawn out as I ever remember it to have been in my life. I was in such anguish, and pleaded with so much earnestness and importunity, that when I rose from my knees I felt extremely weak and overcome; I could scarce walk straight; my joints were loosed; the sweat ran down my face and body; and nature seemed as if it would dissolve.
The writer has two kinds of faith: actual writing and sitting openly. Have faith in your personal effort or sweat. And faith in God, or whatever you want to call it. Then the voices will come. Faith is the big deal.
Love is the simplest of all earthly things. It needs no grandeur of celestial trust In more than what it is, no holy wings: It stands with honest feet in honest dust, And is the body's blossoming in clear air Of trustfulness and joyance when alone Two mortals pass beyond the hour's despair And claim that Paradise which is their own. Amid a universe of sweat and blood, Beyond the glooms of all the nations' hate, Lovers, forgetful of the poisoned mood Of the loud world, in secret ere too late A gentle sacrament may celebrate Before their private altar of the good.
The air is annoyingly potted with a multitude of minor vertical disturbances which sicken the passengers and keep us captives of our seat belts. We sweat in the cockpit, though much of the time we fly with the side windows open. The airplanes smell of hot oil and simmering aluminum, disinfectant, feces, leather, and puke ... the stewardesses, short-tempered and reeking of vomit, come forward as often as they can for what is a breath of comparatively fresh air.
What nature requires is obtainable, and within easy reach. It is for the superfluous we sweat.
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