A Quote by Charles Frazier
We mark some days as fair, some as foul, because we do not see that the character of every day as identical
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Everybody knows that everybody dies. But not every day. Not today. Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, nobody dies at all. Now and then, every once in a very long while, every day in a million days, when the wind stands fair and the Doctor comes to call, everybody lives.
First of all, you want umpires to call what they see. In the case of fair or foul, the smartest thing is to call the ball fair. Because if it's called foul and ruled fair, where do we put the runners?
For at least another hundred years we must pretend to ourselves and to every one that fair is foul and foul is fair; for foul is useful and fair is not. Avarice and usury and precaution must be our gods for a little longer still.
And some days, he went on, were days of hearing every trump and trill of the universe. Some days were good for tasting and some for touching. And some days were good for all the senses at once. This day now, he nodded, smelled as if a great and nameless orchard had grown up overnight beyond the hills to fill the entire visible land with its warm freshness. The air felt like rain, but there were no clouds.
I like to see the difference between good and evil as kind of like the foul line at a baseball game. It's very thin, it's made of something very flimsy like lime, and if you cross it, it really starts to blur where fair becomes foul and foul becomes fair.
I won Iowa not because the demographics dictated that I would win Iowa. It was because I spent 87 days going to every small town and fair and fish fry and BFW Hall, and there were some counties where I might have lost, but maybe I lost by 20 points instead of 50 points. There's some counties maybe I won, that people didn't expect, because people had a chance to see you and listen to you and get a sense of who you stood for and who you were fighting for.
I know that I won't succeed at everything, every day. Some days have to be solely about my daughter. Some days I really try to be a good wife. Other days, I can take a few hours for myself and just do nothing but really focus on work.
On some days in prison you might just need to get out of there, but on some days - not all days, but some - you might be able to see the sky and see the blue in it.
Every day you can write a song but some days there is just some magic in the air and something special about the catch; other days you write all day on a song line or idea.
O heresy in fair, fit for these days,
A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
Some days felt longer than other days. Some days felt like two whole days. Unfortunately those days were never weekend days. Our Saturdays and Sundays passed in half the time of a normal workday. In other words, some weeks it felt like we worked ten straight days and had only one day off.
To get closer to Truth and Right, we need a beautiful and soft heart. Every human learns one day or another to become softer. Some accidentally, some because of disease, some suffer from human loss, some other from material loss ... We all face these situations, but we can either see the good in it and open our hearts, or unfortunately see an another occasion to lock it forever.
My playlist on game day kind of varies. Some days I may be in an R&B mood and that's what pumps me up, and some days it may be country, some days it may be hip-hop or just a Drake album.
When what you do is play characters, every day, all day, I wasn't really interested in playing a pop star on the weekends. I wanted to be myself, and it slowly turned into not being me at all, so I just didn't really see the point. If the music actually happens, at some point, it will be because some underground following happened, or some little elves heard it and were leaking it.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair, hover through fog and filthy air.
Every day is like a kid's drawing, offered to you with a strange mix of ceremoniousness and offhand disregard, yours for the keeping. Some of the days are rich and complicated, others inscrutable, others little more than a stray gray mark on a ragged page. Some you manage to hang on to, though your reasons for doing so are often hard to fathom. But most of them you just ball up and throw away.
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