A Quote by Alistair Darling

We can't be in the business of carting fresh air around the country. — © Alistair Darling
We can't be in the business of carting fresh air around the country.
I know that you don't believe it, but indeed, life will bring you through. You will live it down in time. What you need now is fresh air, fresh air, fresh air!
People always talk about good, fresh country air, but I kept getting wiffs of something that was neither good nor fresh but definitely country.
...if you wish to get pure air into your room, or if you go for a walk in the fresh air, think of the pure and of the unclean heart. Many of us like to have pure air in the room (and this is an excellent habit), or are fond of walking in the fresh air, but they do not even think of the necessity of the purity of the spirit or heart (of, so to say, spiritual air, the breath of life); and, living in the fresh air, they allow themselves to indulge in impure thoughts, impure movements of the heart, and even impurity of language, and most impure carnal actions.
Give me golf clubs, fresh air and a beautiful partner, and you can keep the clubs and the fresh air.
There are, indeed, few merrier spectacles than that of many windmills bickering together in a fresh breeze over a woody country; their halting alacrity of movement, their pleasant business, making bread all day with uncouth gesticulation; their air, gigantically human, as of a creature half alive, put a spirit of romance into the tamest landscape.
I'm interested in raw land and trees and fresh air and rivers and lots of animals around them.
Books were a huge part of my childhood growing up. We would go on vacation, and my mom was always carting manuscripts around.
That walk around the block, that fresh air, is going to help you work more quickly and effectively when you get back.
Thanks to the growing strength of environmental organizations, there will always be some back country to provide us with a touch of wonder and a breath of fresh air.
Fresh air makes me throw up. I can't handle it. I'd rather be around three Denobili cigars blowing in my face all night.
I breathe deeply, taking in the fresh spring air. Though Beaufort has changed and I have changed, the air itself has not. It’s still the air of my childhood, the air of my seventeenth year, and when I finally exhale, I’m fifty-seven once more. But this is okay. I smile slightly, looking towards the sky, knowing there’s one thing I haven’t told you: I now believe, by the way, that miracles can happen.
I think Tahoe is one of the hidden gems in the country, and I've played a lot of golf around the country. You can't beat the smells and the clean air and just the way it makes you feel.
Because forgiveness is like this: a room can be dank because you have closed the windows, you've closed the curtains. But the sun is shining outside, and the air is fresh outside. In order to get that fresh air, you have to get up and open the window and draw the curtains apart.
Fresh air is good if you do not take too much of it; most of the achievements and pleasures of life are in bad air.
Someone wrote in the New York Times recently that if Donald Trump was allowed to go through with his plans, he'd become one of history's major human rights violators and ethnic cleansers, just below the Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin league. But people don't care. Trump goes on Jimmy Fallon's show and that spineless puff of a talk show host praises Trump for being such an "off the cuff" talker and providing "fresh air." Fresh air! What's fresh about racism? it comes out of the darkest dankest rottenest human cellar!
I hate those domed stadiums because the air is goofed up. There's no fresh air, and you almost feel like you have claustrophobia.
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