I hardly ever watch my own work. I just end up picking myself apart! I can't even stand to hear myself on voicemail. the sound of my own voice is like nails on a chalkboard. The same goes for my records.
If you haven't found it yet, keep looking.
The Universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.
I was doing stand-up at a restaurant and there was a chalkboard on the street out front. It said, Soup of the Day: Cream of Asparagus. Ellen DeGeneres.
"I am not just another notch on your belt?" she asked him. "Of course not." he said as he put a mark on the chalkboard.
[A community chalkboard is] about knowing you're not alone. It's about understanding our neighbors in new and enlightening ways.
I found college awkward: another teacher, same old chalkboard. I felt I was shifting backward, when I expected to shoot forward.
V had a passing thought that she used the word "anyway" like an eraser on a crowded chalkboard. She said it whenever she needed to clear off the things she'd just shared to make room for more.
To write as if your life depended on it; to write across the chalkboard, putting up there in public the words you have dredged; sieved up in dreams, from behind screen memories, out of silence-- words you have dreaded and needed in order to know you exist.
My voice went recently, never happened before, off like a tap. I had to sit in silence for nine days, chalkboard around my neck. Like an old-school mime. Like a kid in the naughty corner. Like a Victorian mute.
Into the silence rips a sound that makes me let go of Max's hand and cover my ears. It is like the strafe of a bullet, nails on a chalkboard, promises being broken. It's a note I have never heard - this chord of pure pain - and it takes a moment to realize it is coming from me.
By the way, I'm not just one man with a chalkboard. I'm one man with four chalkboards.
I used to think that nails-down-a-chalkboard was the worst sound in the world. Then I moved on to people-eating-cereal-on-the-phone. But only this week did I stumble across the rightful winner: it's the sound of a baggage carousel coming to a grinding halt, having reunited every passenger on your flight with their luggage, except for you.
I can't stand the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard!
Just as chalk can be removed from a chalkboard, with sincere repentance, the effects of our transgression can be erased through the atonement of Jesus Christ.
Everyday begins like a blank chalkboard, on which each one of us can write the poem of our present and our dreams for the future.
In our society, the sound of men complaining is like nails on a chalkboard.
If I go into a sandwich shop or anywhere that features 'Today's specials' on a chalkboard more than 10 feet away, I have to ask for a printed menu. I smile at people I don't know on the street and ignore those I do. When at home, I often find myself grabbing my 'back-up' glasses to search for the better-loved pair I have left on top of my dresser.
Chalkboards being used inside the restaurant seem to be a good sign that the proprietors are proud of their food, and that's kind of nice, actually - it's a nice personal touch.
My loneliness...still comes over me sometimes...It's a liminal, lost sensation of having wandered wide, endless boulevards, among rows of orange trees, winter butterflies, seasons reversed and out of order, dogs barking from behind fences meant to keep out intruders. It's not the place that impoverishes me but I who bring my own sense of poverty, of loss, to the place. It's a sense of near nothingness, as though I were not so much a blank slate as an erased chalkboard, still bearing illegible smudges of smoothed-over writing.
or simply:
