One night some short weeks ago, for the first time in her not always happy life, Marilyn Monroe's soul sat down alone to a quiet supper from which it did not rise.
But it was great, we sit in the same dressing room where, like, Johnny Cash sat and Willie Nelson and all those guys. That was in itself something amazing - I was on the same space these guys stood on, ya know?
Amy sat back and grinned. "You just smiled." That was definitely something else she could get used to. Of course, he frowned immediately. "I smile.
It seemed at momemts, When I sat alone in the dark stateroom, that the sky had come down to meet the sea and some great secert was to be revealed.
I sat in the sun on a bench; the animal within me licking the chops of memory; the spiritual side a little drowsed, promising subsequent penitence, but not yet moved to begin.
Last night you sat there singing to me 'nothing to hide, believe what I say' and not ten hours later you're standin' in front of me lyin
The tides rolled up to crash against the shore while we sat feet from one another with the remnants of all we’d left unsaid driving us apart.
I discovered that private things were mostly sour. They sat spoiling in the corners of your heart for so long that by the time you acknowledged them you were dealing with something rancid.
The couch was wide enough for two, but I sat in it alone. Was I obese in body—or skinny in love?
So she sat on the porch and watched the moon rise. Soon its amber fluid was drenching the earth, and quenching the thirst of the day.
This meal happened to be a make-believe tea, and they sat 'round the board guzzling in their greed; and really, what with their chatter and recriminations, the noise, as Wendy said, was postiviely deafening.
...and he just sat back and stared at the tube, almost interested in what was happening, trying to find the ability to believe in that lie so he could believe the one within.
It was my 16th birthday - my mom and dad gave me my Goya classical guitar that day. I sat down, wrote this song, and I just knew that that was the only thing I could ever really do - write songs and sing them to people.
I don't even know what made me start wanting to do music. It just... happened. Because I sat in my basement all the time, and music was my best friend, and I just wanted to be a part of it.
I don't think I'd have been in such a hurry to reach adulthood if I'd known the whole thing was going to be ad-libbed.
Idrith didn’t want to go back to his cold lonely room, with all its unanswered questions. He took the glass and sat down.
I will be brief. Not nearly so brief as Salvador Dali, who gave the world's shortest speech. He said I will be so brief I have already finished, and he sat down.
Fancy your having no sunshine in London yesterday! Here it was glorious, like full summer, and I sat up with the window wide open, listening to the discourse of two amorous thrushes.
I've always admired the tradition of storytellers who sat in the public market and told their stories to gathered crowds. They'd start with a single premise and talk for hours - the notion of one story, ever-changing but never-ending.
I sat and reflected on the situation I had faced I needed answers to the questions I still, didnt have the courage to ask... But I need to know, How was this to be apart of my destiny?
I really just sat down to write. I mean, I did what most writers do when something happens that's overwhelming, fascinating, moving, all of that.
