A Quote by Aimee Bender
We hit the sidewalk, and dropped hands. How I wished, right then, that the whole world was a street.
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I am not so concerned with how many Rotten Tomatoes we have - although the good reviews are to be wished for, of course - but I have my hands full in the daily housekeeping of doing Maura right and being truthful to this experience.
A little bird told me that jumping is easy and the falling is fun, right up until you hit sidewalk shivering and stunned.
Marco Rubio hit my hands. Nobody has ever hit my hands. I've never heard of this. What - look at those hands. Are they small hands? And he referred to my hands - if they're small, something else must be small. I guarantee you, there's no problem. I guarantee you.
When you play piano, your left hand and right hand are synced. Your brain basically has a clock, so that the right hand knows that 0.3 seconds after I hit this key, I need to hit that one. And the right hand knows not to hit keys that the left hand is playing, so the hands do not collide.
Emma dropped the paper. Her first impression was of a weak feeling in her stomach and in her knees; then of blind guilt, of unreality, of coldness, of fear; then she wished that it were already the next day. Immediately afterwards she realized that that wish was futile because the death of her father was the only thing that had happened in the world, and it would go on happening endlessly.
When a baby comes into the world, its hands are clenched, right? Like this?" He made a fist. "Why? Because a baby not knowing any better, wants to grab everything, to say the whole world is mine. But when an old person dies, how does he do so? With his hands open. Why? Because he has learned his lesson." "What lesson?" I asked. He stretched open his empty fingers. "We can take nothing with us.
You get hit by one of those right hands or an uppercut or a left hook by Mark Hunt, then you know that **** is on and that cage is locked, and there's nowhere to go.
It's a whole series of accidents that makes a show into a hit. A show can be fantastic and still not be a hit. You just have to hit the Zeitgeist at the right moment, and there are so many factors that you're not in control of.
The stream at the end of your street can be a place where you make contact with this whole other amazing world hidden right there beneath the surface. Fishing can be the passport to that world.
I left the library. Crossing the street, I was hit head-on by a brutal loneliness. I felt dark and hollow. Abandoned, unnoticed, forgotten, I stood on the sidewalk, a nothing, a gatherer of dust. People hurried past me. and everyone who walked by was happier than I. I felt the old envy. I would have given anything to be one of them.
The street curves in and out, up and down in great waves of asphalt; at night the granite tomb is noisy with starlings like the creaking of many axles; only the tired walker know how much there is to climb, how the sidewalk curves into the cold wind.
What can you do when you don't fit in? What can you do when life seems to be passing you by?" "Follow me. I want to show you something. See the horizon over there? See how big this world is? See how much room there is for everybody? Have you ever seen any other worlds?" "No." "As far as you know, this is the only world there is, right?" "Right." "There are no other worlds for you to live in, right?" "Right." "You were born to live in this world, right?" "Right." "WELL LIVE IN IT THEN! Five cents please.
Don't ever hit a person first, but if anybody ever puts their hands on you, you hit them right between the eyes.
If you're looking at things with the right set of eyes, people are endlessly fascinating. And then, of course, if you look at it the wrong way, then the whole world is horrible and tedious and boring. That's the battle, really--to keep looking at the world in the right way.
When I first started swinging a bat, I swung righty. So one time, my dad came home, and he wanted to see my batting stance. So I showed him. He says, 'You don't hit right-handed. You hit left-handed.' At that age I didn't even really think about it. Just like 'all right,' and I switched hands. He said I'd thank him later.
Think what a better world it would be if we all - the whole world - had cookies and milk about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankies for a nap. Or if all governments had as a basic policy to always put things back where they found them and to clean up their own mess. And it is still true, no matter how old you are - when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.
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