A Quote by Alex Ferguson

The lads really ran their socks into the ground. — © Alex Ferguson
The lads really ran their socks into the ground.
Socks must be at least an 18-percent synthetic blend to insure they don't droop, because droopy socks that show calf are worse than short socks that do the same.
As many times as [HIV] changes its clothes, it's still wearing the same socks, and now our job is to make sure we get the body to really hate those socks.
I have a brother who gives socks for Christmas. He gives socks. Every year, I get a pair of socks from him.
My family on the ground is definitely in my thoughts and in my prayers, and on my socks.
South Hampton is Jacket-With-No-Socks, East Hampton is Socks-With-No-Jacket, Bridge Hampton is Jacket-and-Socks and Sag Harbor, along with the Fun Group, is No-Jacket-and-No-Socks.
So laugh, lads, and quaff, lads, twill make you stout and hale; through all my days, I'll sing the praise of brown October ale.
On dispersive ground, therefore, fight not. On facile ground, halt not. On contentious ground, attack not. On open ground, do not try to block the enemy's way. On the ground of intersecting highways, join hands with your allies. On serious ground, gather in plunder. In difficult ground, keep steadily on the march. On hemmed-in ground, resort to stratagem. On desperate ground, fight.
[My brother] lived in a dry gulch where the world of socks and shoes became extremely fascinating, and he felt that everyone needs a good pair of socks, and why not limit his gift giving to something that everybody needs? He thought that there was something humorous about it. So he gives socks.
The coolest Christmas present I've ever received is probably socks. My grandma always gets me socks - every year - and that's something that I've probably never bought for myself. If Christmas wasn't around and my grandma didn't get me socks, I wouldn't own any, probably.
Some lads were dribblers, some lads just loved scoring goals, whereas I enjoyed and took pride in practicing my passing and that. That's how it was.
The water of the fountain ran, the swift river ran, the day ran into evening, so much life in the city ran into death according to rule, time and tide waited for no man, the rats were sleeping close together in their dark holes again, the Fancy Ball was lighted up at supper, all things ran their course.
I change my socks often, because I had bad bouts of athlete's foot fungus infections as a kid. I may be able to change socks less frequently and not get the fungus. But, I'd rather not run the test to determine just how infrequently I could change socks. I don't feel superstitious about it.
There was a man that hated his footprints and his shadow, so one day he thought that if he ran fast enough, his footprints and shadow would not be able to follow him and then he never ever had to look at them again. He ran and he ran as fast as he could, but the shadow and the footprints had no problems keeping up to him. And he ran even faster and all of a sudden he fell dead to the ground. But if he been standing still there hadn't been any footprints and if he had been resting under a tree his shadow had been swallowed of the trees shadow.
I ran to the forest, I ran to the trees. I ran and I ran, I was looking for me.
If police are upset about an individual wearing pig socks, they need to understand why those socks exist in the first place.
The centuries will burn rich loads With which we groaned, Whose warmth shall lull their dreaming lids, While songs are crooned: But they will not dream of us poor lads, Left in the ground.
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