Mallet strikes chisel; chisel splits wood.
The mind is the chisel, matter is the stone and life is the sculpture. Make sure you use your chisel wisely
A sculptor wields The chisel, and the stricken marble grows To beauty.
War is a poor chisel to carve out tomorrow.
Wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows.
A disease and its treatment can be a series of humiliations, a chisel for humility.
Wisdom is a sharp chisel to carve out your future.
Don't think too much. There'll be time to think later. Analysis won't help. You're chiseling now. You're passing your hands over the wood. Now the page is no longer blank. There's something there. It isn't your business yet to know whether it's going...
Life is a quarry, out of which we are to mold and chisel and complete a character.
Simon Bishop: You're why cavemen chiseled on walls.
It is well with me only when I have a chisel in my hand.
I have chiseled features. Look. Look how chiseled they are. And my teeth are at as white as his. You seriously think he's good-lookin'?" "I do," said Tanith. "Right," Sanguine said and nodded. "I'm gonna kill him." She kept her laugh soft so it would...
Casting my eyes on Mr. Wemmick as we went along, to see what he was like in the light of day, I found him to be a dry man, rather short in stature, with a square wooden face, whose expression seemed to have been imperfectly chipped out with a dull-ed...
The past is prophetic in that it asserts loudly that wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows.
I carve stone. I've got hammers and chisels and I carve from sandstone. I just did a big mural of birds and trees.
I saw an angel in the block of marble and I just chiseled until I set him free.
He has the body of a professional athlete, chiseled to perfection in all the right places.
Suddenly, I can't move. I can't speak. I am set in stone, but it's a glorious chiseled sort of stone.
People don't realize the limitations of 200 words, and the way they get chiselled down into a song that has to be sung.
The Duke of Dunstable had one-way pockets. He would walk ten miles in the snow to chisel an orphan out of tuppence.
As when, O lady mine, With chiselled touch The stone unhewn and cold Becomes a living mould, The more the marble wastes, The more the statue grows.
