Sometimes I think things happen for a reason... And I think if we're meant to run into each other again, fate will make it happen.
I do not know if the people of the United States would vote for superior men if they ran for office, but there can be no doubt that such men do not run.
You would think there's a natural limit to tears: only so much the body can give at one sitting before it runs dry.
Eventually, you must stop running to something or from something and embrace where you are. Otherwise you’ll never embrace anything.
I attributed the incidence to temporary insanity, and in my own defense, I'd like to say I haven't run over anyone since.
And the more I considered Christianity, the more I found that while it had established a rule and order, the chief aim of of that order was to give room for good things to run wild.
...The most important thing, I think. You can't run from your past. You have to take it for what it is and realize that it's part of you.
But kids don't stay with you if you do it right. It's the one job where, the better you are, the more surely you won't be needed in the long run.
Running is a mental sport, more than anything else. You're only as good as your training, and your training is only as good as your thinking.
Sometimes I wonder whether the world is being run by smart people who are putting us on or by imbeciles who really mean it.
Normally I’d run off in the other direction when faced with a man wearing what were essentially pyjamas to work, but this time... well, they matched my boxers.
I want you to remember this—you and I are in this life together. All the way. We don’t run just because we get sacked a few times.
A women can run, hide, play and have fun but she will shine far better when she just smiles without none.
It's very hard to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And no matter where you run into it, prejudice obscures the truth.
To save the environment—and my childhood memories, I merged a gas station pump with a jukebox. Look, my car now runs on 80s music!
You used to love me. Let me help jog your memory by buying you some running shoes. The shoes will be wooden, and nailed to the floor.
Some people are happy to exist, and other people are happy to exit. If you’re wondering why everyone is running, it’s because I just pulled the fire alarm.
Most people fight with their fists. But I fight with my legs. I fight to stay, but they fight to run. Luckily for them, I don't fight very hard.
He was like her favorite type of candy, she realized, a bit sour at first but all sweetness in the long run. Admittedly . . . that tartness was part of the allure all along.
Love is like being featherless in mid flight and not even wondering if you taste like chicken. My love must taste like ostrich, because I’m always running from it.
If you see an antimatter version of yourself running towards you, think twice before embracing.
