Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at all.
Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work.
I've found that when you roll up your sleeves and join people in their daily work, they tend to open up quite a bit and let you know what they really think about the issues facing our country and what kind of job they think the government is doing.
I am proof that the American dream still exists.
You see, idealism detached from action is just a dream. But idealism allied with pragmatism, with rolling up your sleeves and making the world bend a bit, is very exciting. It's very real. It's very strong.
To say yes, you have to sweat and roll up your sleeves and plunge both hands into life up to the elbows. It is easy to say no, even if saying no means death.
Why, I just shake the buildings out of my sleeves.
McCarthyism is Americanism with its sleeves rolled.
A revolutionary idea is usually one with its sleeves rolled up.
Boys wear their hearts on their sleeves. Even when they're trying to pull one over on you they're so transparent. Like men.
Now I'm way into suits that I can put on whether I took a shower or not, and wear barefoot and paint my toes black or whatever color the suit is. It's very cool to wear suits like that. Roll up the sleeves and just say yee-haw.
But when I started writing songs, I stopped painting completely, and the only art things I do are connected to the career, like album sleeves and, to some extent, posters and things like that.
I wear my heart on my sleeve.
My Dad was so open creatively that I was off in search of black turtleneck bathing suits with long sleeves.
To wear your heart on your sleeve isn't a very good plan; you should wear it inside, where it functions best.
I am living proof that the American dream still exists. It is still alive and well. There is only one trick, you have to be willing to roll up your sleeves and work very, very hard.
A true leader always keeps an element of surprise up his sleeve, which others cannot grasp but which keeps his public excited and breathless.
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
A ball had passed between my body and the right arm which supported him, cutting through the sleeve and passing through his chest from shoulder to shoulder. There was no more to be done for him and I left him to his rest. I have never mended that hole in my sleeve.
Some people wear their heart up on their sleeve. I wear mine underneath my right pant leg, strapped to my boot.