A Quote by Gethin Jones

The dream home would be stepping out of the house and feeling sand on my bare feet. — © Gethin Jones
The dream home would be stepping out of the house and feeling sand on my bare feet.
If I could choose, I'd be bare feet with animals all around me and living in a tree house. Like Tarzan and Jane, that's my dream. I'm at my happiest around nature.
I usually get myself into situations that cause sparks. I mean I'm a girl that likes the storms. I love feeling alive, I love walking out in the cold in my bare feet and feeling the ice on my toes.
I dream dark dreams. I dream of a figure moving through the forest, of children flying from his path, of young women crying at his coming. I dream of snow and ice, of bare branches and moon-cast shadows. I dream of dancers floating in the air, stepping lightly even in death, and my own pain is but a faint echo of their suffering as I run. My blood is black on the snow, and the edges of the world are silvered with moonlight. I run into the darkness, and he is waiting. I dream in black and white, and I dream of him. I dream of Caleb, who does not exist, and I am afraid.
When I was a student in the '60s, I dreamt of making a house 7 feet by 7 feet, as a dream of freedom, of self-moderation.
Sometimes the house of the future is better built, lighter and larger than all the houses of the past, so that the image of the dream house is opposed to that of the childhood home. Late in life, with indomitable courage, we continue to say that we are going to do what we have not yet done: we are going to build a house. This dream house may be merely a dream of ownership, the embodiment of everything that is considered convenient, comfortable, healthy, sound, desirable, by other people. It must therefore satisfy both pride and reason, two irreconcilable terms.
I love the feeling of putting my feet back on the sand after I've been out in the ocean for a while. I love that. I guess the adrenaline calms down when the sense of balance returns in a really grounded way.
Humans cannot fly, but they can get the flying feeling. All they need to do is go out at night into a wild storm where the thunder roars like applause and the lightning throws itself in daggers of light at your bare feet and you suddenly find you are not afraid.
TREE HOUSE A tree house, a free house, A secret you and me house, A high up in the leafy branches Cozy as can be house. A street house, a neat house, Be sure to wipe your feet house Is not my kind of house at all- Let's go live in a tree house.
To a person who expects every desert to be barren sand dunes, the Sonoran must come as a surprise. Not only are there no dunes, there's no sand. At least not the sort of sand you find at the beach. The ground does have a sandy color to it, or gray, but your feet won't sink in. It's hard, as if it's been tamped. And pebbly. And glinting with -- what else -- mica.
The best treatment for feet encased in shoes all day is to go barefoot. One-fifth of the world's population never wears shoes - ever! But when people who usually go barefoot usually wear shoes, their feet begin to suffer. As often as possible, walk barefoot on the beach, in your yard, or at least around the house. Walking in the grass or sand massages your feet, strengthens your muscles and feels very relaxing...If you can cut back on wearing shoes by 30 percent, you will save wear and tear on your feet and extend the life of your shoes.
I escaped to New York, and then L.A., but when I dream of home, I still dream of my old house in Holmdel.
At home, a T-shirt and something loose like harem pants would do. If I'm stepping out, a pair of blue jeans and a white tee are just fine.
I saw the long line of the vacant shore, The sea-weed and the shells upon the sand, And the brown rocks left bare on every hand, As if the ebbing tide would flow no more.
I prefer to live in a rented house. No ties. Nothing around my neck. Just the minimum kind of bare comforts of home.
I have the same pet peeve as Anderson Cooper, which is bare feet in public. I hate it. It so grosses me out, especially in New York. Oh my God, New York in the summer with people and their feet in their sandals and their flip-flops, like get it away!
As was the case in Requiem for a Dream, Pollock, A Beautiful Mind, House of Sand and Fog, The Hulk and Dark Water, Connelly's mere presence in a film guarantees that things will turn out badly for the male lead, as Connelly is always cast as the Angel of Death. Fun to hang out with, great eyes, amazing eyebrows, but the Angel of Death.
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