My father was an engineer - he wasn't literary, not a writer or a journalist, but he was one of the world's great readers. Every two weeks, he'd take me to our local branch library and pull books off the shelf for me, stacking them up in my arms - 'H...
I don't like men who treat women like arm candies. He should treat me like an equal or better. And then he should be a good human being. He should see the human side of things. I like men who stand up for what's right and who don't cheat.
Let's face it: the present self is present. It's in control. It's in power right now. It has these strong, heroic arms that can lift doughnuts into your mouth. And the future self is not even around. It's off in the future. It's weak. It doesn't even...
If Christianity is a mere invention of man, and the Bible is not from God, how can infidels explain Jesus Christ? His existence in history they cannot deny. How is it that without force or bribery, without arms or money, He has made such an immensely...
I don't know what it's like to be an arm amputee, or have even one flesh-and-bone leg, or to have cerebral palsy. I don't speak for such huge and diverse groups. What I've tried to do, what I've been fortunate to do, is to live my live and create my ...
My view is that life is too short. I'm not being melodramatic or anything, but when your mother dies in your arms - just you and her, and it's one o'clock in the morning, and you're waiting for her to exhale - you just think, life's too bloody short ...
It's kind of a tradition that you get a rookie, put him in the middle, wrap your arms and legs around him, then douse him with everything you can get a hold of - shaving cream, ketchup, mustard, everything. It's kind of like a pie in the face after a...
In several sections, both natural in the banks of the Mississippi and its numerous arms, and where artificial canals had been cut, I observed erect stumps of trees, with their roots attached, buried in strata at different heights, one over the other.
At times, I feel America is something that I can actually put my arms around, more than a land mass and a Constitution, something far more containable and understandable. I don't exactly know what it is, but at these times I feel completely woven int...
My earliest memory is dreamlike: in a small orchard or garden I am carried on the arm, I believe, of my father; there was a group of grown-ups, my mother among them, and the group was slowly walking in the orchard, it seems toward the house.
Every so often i'd wake up when his arms clenched around me, his embrace so tight i thought he'd cut off my circulation, holding me as if even in his sleep he was haunted by the fear of losing me.
Al-Qa'ida does not follow a traditional command structure, wear uniforms, carry its arms openly, or mass its troops at the borders of the nations it attacks. Nonetheless, it possesses the demonstrated capability to strike with little notice and cause...
Because I don't produce insulin, I have to put insulin into my body, which means that I have a pen with a needle on it. I have it with me. You have to stick it in your thigh, or your arm - a lot of different spots you can put it.
I started out doing multiple characters from day one, when I got my fist job in 'Dumbo's Circus.' I'm used to getting in an argument with myself, throwing myself off a cliff, patching myself up and brushing myself off with an arm around my shoulder.
A robot-arm in a factory doesn't decide minute by minute whether to rivet or revolt - it just does the job is has literally been trained to do. It's if and when we build a conscious robot that we may have to worry.
If I just simply let go, and allow my hand, my arm, to be more of a support system, suddenly - I have more dynamic with less effort. Much more, and I just feel, at last, one with the stick, and one with the drum.
A piercing screech from above caught my attention. However, it was the arm landing beside me with teeth marks that let me know what was going on. “Can you be a little more careful where you let body parts fall?” - Faith, Witch Devotions
He'd wanted to mend her just like his mother had mended his favorite teddy bear when his arm had come loose after too much play. He offered her his pudding cup instead.
It is hard being a football loather, a football unfan. I sometimes feel as lonely as the sole survivor in the last reel of a Zombie film, as, one by one, old friends reveal themselves, with their glassy stares and outstretched arms, to have succumbed...
When 'The Cosby Show' came out, and everyone was up in arms about 'The Cosby Show' and that it was reflecting a world that didn't exist - but I knew black doctors. And I knew black lawyers. And I knew families that, you know, had a mother and a fathe...
I'd just done the most important thing a person can ever do. I'd made life. At the very instant he was put into my arms, I loved this new person more than anyone but a mother can understand.
