I believe in love like a flower bud might believe in Buddha. But, then, I’m a romantic, and you know that because in the last presidential election I voted for Grilled Cheese Sandwich.
And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart: Your seeds shall live in my body, And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart, And your fragrance shall be my breath, And together we shall rejoice through all the seas...
Aware that his disappointment has its source in a defective education, he looks with anxiety on his other daughters, whose minds, like lovely buds, are beginning to open. Where shall he find a genial soil in which he may place them to expand?
It is only your passion which takes you forward. So it is my gyaan to all budding singers that keep faith in your passion and prepare yourself, because you will get that opportunity sooner or later, and if you can prove yourself, people will line up ...
I was also lucky to play for an owner, Bud Selig, who truly cared about his players. He'd call me into his office once in a while when he knew things weren't going so well. And it's funny. Every time I left there I always felt like something good was...
It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter sl...
Jeffrey Beaumont: Man I like Heineken! You like Heineken? Sandy Williams: Uh- Well, I've never really had a Heineken before. Jeffrey Beaumont: You never had a Heineken before? Sandy Williams: My dad drinks Bud. Jeffrey Beaumont: King of beers.
Cooper: Look, I'm glad you're excited about gravity, bud, but you're not getting anymore answers until I get assurances. Williams: Assurances? Cooper: [Covers Murph's ears] Yeah. Like that we're getting out of here... and I don't mean in the trunk of...
[when Sid Hudgens is found dead] Bud White: What happened? Detective at Hush-Hush Office: Somebody beat him to death and stole a bunch of files. Must've dug up garbage on the wrong guy. Got it narrowed down to a thousand suspects.
Bud Fox: How much is enough? Gordon Gekko: It's not a question of enough, pal. It's a zero sum game, somebody wins, somebody loses. Money itself isn't lost or made, it's simply transferred from one perception to another.
[Bud is being put into the fluid-breathing suit] Virgil: So, I can hear you, but I can't talk, right? Ensign Monk: The fluid prevents the larynx from making sound. Excuse me. It'll feel a little strange. Virgil: Yeah, no shit.
I love to see the bud bursting into maturity; I love to mark the deepening tints with which the beams of heaven paint the expanded flower; nay, with a melancholy sort of pleasure, I love to watch that progress towards decay, so endearingly bespeaking...
Why would she want to come back here and live?' I wondered. 'Doesn't seem like she'd want to.' 'Why do you say that?' 'She seems different, that's all.' 'I don't know,' Bud said. 'You might be confusing different with dissatisfied.
She grew up in the ordinary paradise of the English countryside. When she was five she walked to school, two miles, across meadows covered with cowslips, buttercups, daisies, vetch, rimmed by hedges full of blossom and then berries, blackthorn, hawth...
The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief of grief has drained me clean; Still it seems a pity No one saw,—it must have been Very pretty.
V shook his head. “Remember what you saw in that clearing, cop? How’d you like that anywhere near a female you loved?” Butch put down the Bud without drinking from it. His eyes traveled over Rhage’s body. “We’re going to need a shitload o...
I decline the coffee. I don't drink it, because no matter how much sugar I put into it, it still tastes like ass-water to me. Maybe it's because my taste buds are so desensitized to sweet that anything not comprised of at least ninety percent sugar t...
People talk about the beauty of the spring, but I can't see it. The trees are brown and bare, slimy with rain. Some are crawling with new purple hairs. And the buds are bulging like tumorous acne, and I can tell that something wet, and soft, and cold...
When gods die, self-respect buds', murmured Orland Fank. 'Gods and their examples are not needed by those who respect themselves and, consequently, respect others. Gods are for children, for little, fearful people, for those who would have no respons...
Though some may see their shortcomings as the greatest evil from the pit of hell, while some throw invectives at God for bringing them into a cruel, problematic world. These shortcomings are transient, the greatest evil does its work and needs no int...
For there is hope for a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that its shoots will not cease. Though its root grow old in the earth, and its stump die in the ground, yet at the scent of water it will bud and put forth branches like ...
