A Quote by Robert James Waller
The road is a strange place. Shuffling along, I looked up and you were there walking across the grass toward my truck on an August day. In retrospect, it seems inevitable - it could not have been any other way-- a case of what I call the high probability of the improbable
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But to look back from the stony plain along the road which led one to that place is not at all the same thing as walking on the road; the perspective to say the very least, changes only with the journey; only when the road has, all abruptly and treacherously, and with an absoluteness that permits no argument, turned or dropped or risen is one able to see all that one could not have seen from any other place.
Okay, look at it this way: if the evening news has a very high probability of being accurate, then it's highly improbable that they would inaccurately report the numbers chosen in the lottery. That counterbalances any improbability in the choosing of those numbers, so you're quite rational to believe in this highly improbable event.
People steal into one's consciousness and occupy what seems, in retrospect, to have been their place all along.
The continual cracking of your feet on the road makes a certain quantity of road come up into you. When a man dies they say he returns to clay but too much walking fills you up with clay far sooner (or buries bits of you along the road) and brings your death half-way to meet you. It is not easy to know what is the best way to move yourself from one place to another.
I wonder if I could have been here before as I drive up the Roman road the Theater seems familiar - perhaps I headed a legion up that same white road... I passed a chateau in ruins which I possibly helped escalade in the middle ages. There is no proof nor yet any denial. We were, We are, and we will be.
Along this road, we won't stop moving forward Not even if we become separated from one another. For us, most of all, there was never a time, never a place where you could just stand still But even so, if there were times when we were afraid, when we'd look back on it all and wonder We'd just say that is was our destiny, wouldn't we? So we started off, all walking down the same road
I saw it with my own eyes: Israelis and Palestinians, arm in arm, walking off together and clearly pricing how you could get your truck to the top of the line or get it through at all. It was an absolutely transparently corrupt system at the border - you had to buy your truck's way across. I thought it was a disgrace.
Matt looked up kids from his high school class. Only three were listed as dead, but a bunch were listed as missing/presumed dead. As a test, he looked us up, but none of our names were on any of the lists. And that's how we know we're alive this Memorial Day.
Still, the vivid green of the grass-where the grass is actually managing to assert itself through the dirt-seems out of place. This seems like a place where the sun should never shine: a place on the edge, at the limit, a place completely removed from time and happiness and life.
I think, like a lot of other people who have been in the service, you'd been delayed in what you were doing. You wanted to catch up and the best way to catch up was to move as fast as you could toward a degree.
I did what every other actor did: there were agents all the way up the Charing Cross Road and up St. Martin's Lane, and I would go out each day and do the agents - walk into these buildings, along their corridors, bang on these doors and say, 'Anything today?'
I could not imagine that the future I was walking toward could compare in any way to the past that I was leaving behind.
I watched the way they looked at each other. Any idiot could see they were in love, even if they were the only two idiots who couldn't.
The grass is always greener on the other side, unless Vince Russo has been there in which case the grass is most likely dead.
When I was 16, I used to drive huge loads of laundry in a three ton truck. I would turn round at night to drive back and see the band in a place north of Toronto called Dunn's Pavilion. I would drive that truck all day and they drive back and all the way until one day I wrecked the truck. I fell asleep and wrecked it. I was OK and so was my helper. I called my dad and the first words out of his mouth were, "are you OK?" I was really lucky I had a kind father.
There's an old line that goes, the truck you see 400 yards down the road is not the truck that hits you. When we see these problems coming, they usually get defused. Brexit may have been a surprise, but we recognized it as something that could possibly happen.
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