Trust is like sand, one lie and it slips away.
Sand was dribbling out of the bag of her attention, faster and faster.
Extracting oil from the tar sands is a nasty, polluting, energy-intensive business.
Das Leben flieht wie Sand dahin, Doch schwer umkehret sich der Sinn.
is like the fox, who effaces tracks in the sand with tail. { }
In the case of sand as in that of woman, there is a fineness which is treacherous.
There's something incredibly sexy about sand and sweat and dunes photographed like women's backs.
More than anything, this place feels familiar. I bury my hands in the hot sand and think about the embodiment of memory or, more specifically, our natural ability to carry the past in our bodies and minds. Individually, every grain of sand brushing a...
I said, I know why you’re afraid to fight with me.” "And why is that?” If he flexed again, I’d have to implement emergency measures. Maybe I could kick some sand at him or something. Hard to look hot brushing sand out of your eyes. "You want ...
I think fear neutralizes alcohol, weakens its anesthetic power. It's good for small fears; your boss, your wife, your bills, your dentist; all right then to take a drink. But for big ones it doesn't do any good. Like water on blazing gasoline, it wil...
The three species of pine native to Wisconsin (white, red and jack) differ radically in their opinions about marriageable age. The precocious jackpine sometimes bloom and bears cones a year or two after leaving the nursery, and a few of my 13-year-ol...
Finally we came over a rise and I saw the Caribbean...My first feeling was a wild desire to drive a stake in the sand and claim the place for myself. The beach was white as salt, and cut off from the world by a ring of steep hills that faced the sea....
We are like children building a sand castle. We embellish it with beautiful shells, bits of driftwood, and pieces of colored glass. The castle is ours, off limits to others. We’re willing to attack if others threaten to hurt it. Yet despite all our...
Son, a real battlefield lacks dignity and honor. When lives are being spent—actual human lives—those high-minded concepts lose their meaning. All that matters is victory. If you have blades, you’ll use blades. If you have rocks, you’ll use ro...
Misery, after all, loves company.
Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.
The real in us is silent; the acquired is talkative.
Some of our children are our justifications and some are but our regrets.
And all around is the desert; a corner of the mournful kingdom of sand.
I will not be a common man. I will stir the smooth sands of monotony.
If wishes were grains of sand, the world would be a desert.
