The sparkle and morning-freshness of the shop, and the butter-conjuring girl, formed a mind-picture which accompanied the whole of my youth.(about the Buttercup Dairy)
I wish I had thrown out the bathroom scale at age 16. Weighing yourself every morning is like waking up and asking Dick Cheney to validate your sense of inner worth.
In my day, at 12 years old, which was 38 years ago, we worked out in summer months for two and a half hours. Today someone in that age group might work out for four hours, two hours in the morning and two at night.
One of my favorite things to do is to play music really loud and dance my butt off in the morning. I'll do it alone in my apartment. You can't have a bad day after that.
From 7 in the morning to 11 at night, I was reading. I don't think one can find any other time in one's life to be left alone so much to read in peace like that.
When I walked to school in the mornings I would start out alone but would pick up four other boys along the way. We would set out together after school across the village green.
Every morning, I crawl out of bed. I sit there and think, 'Do I really need this?' And I drag myself to the gym in my garage. It's not fun. I hate it. I work out alone. Weights.
I had an amazing childhood, lots of love. But my dad worked his tail off, getting up at 4 in the morning and going off at 5, 6 o'clock, yet he always had time to spend with his kids and his wife.
You can't be as old as I am without waking up with a surprised look on your face every morning: 'Holy Christ, whaddya know - I'm still around!' It's absolutely amazing that I survived all the booze and smoking and the cars and the career.
On the 11th anniversary of 9/11, it is some consolation that the man most responsible for that terrible morning will not be smiling smugly to himself as satellite TV brings to the leafy boulevards of Abbottabad the somber images of New Yorkers commem...
The fact that you woke up this morning is proof that this day has already been predetermined in your favor.
I am a man of peace [so he told Mother, but it always appeared to me that he was the most belligerent man of peace I had ever encountered]
I yell at yellow like I purr at pink. If they were more fluid, I’d pour meows in my morning coffee.
Trying to remember a dream from a decade ago is like trying to catch fog in a coffee filter. I could subsist on morning mist.
This morning my girlfriend was so loud in bed that we woke up the neighbors. So I told them to roll over and go back to sleep.
Presently the small of coffee began to fill the room. This was morning’s hallowed moment. In such a fragrance the perversity of the world is forgotten, and the soul is inspired with faith in the future…
I feel as though whenever I create something, my Mr. Hyde wakes up in the middle of the night and starts thrashing it. I sometimes love it the next morning, but other times it is an abomination.
If you want to know what a truly healthy relationship is, it’s one where both people wake up every morning and say, “I choose to be with this person.
Money, money, money! I think about money morning, noon and night! I dare say it's mercenary of me, but there it is
This morning could have been perfect. The cruel truth is they have never been. Give us loneliness or give us death.
Do something. Successful achievers wake up in the morning and go to bed in the night. In between their waking up and going to bed is occupied with action, action, action and action.
