A Quote by Guy Martin

I like the Mid Antrim circuit, and if anyone were to ask me to show them a typical Irish road surface, I would take them to the Mid Antrim. It is awesome. — © Guy Martin
I like the Mid Antrim circuit, and if anyone were to ask me to show them a typical Irish road surface, I would take them to the Mid Antrim. It is awesome.
I stalk certain words... I catch them in mid-flight, as they buzz past, I trap them, clean them, peel them, I set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives... I stir them, I shake them, I drink them, I gulp them down, I mash them, I garnish them... I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coals, like pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves... Everything exists in the word.
Kanan is a big road through the Santa Monica Mountains. Between mid-March and mid-April, when you get over to the western side of the mountains, it's populated by Spanish broom - this beautiful, yellow, flowering weed that smells the way I imagine it smells along the Yellow Brick Road.
In 2004 in England, there was one catch that was very special to me. I was bowling in a league match, and the batsman hit the ball over my head. I had to run back to between mid-off and mid-on to take the catch, and I did.
I must have been 15 or 16 when I left Antrim Grammar, but I do remember having my first proper kiss when I lived there.
In the year 2000, the very youngest members of the Baby Boomer crew were in their mid-30s while the oldest Boomers were mid-50s. That year, the Boomers were a generation divided somewhat equally between the GOP and Democrats.
Youth. The fact that, in the mid-'90s, guys like Lee Fields gave me and all these young people the chance to do backup. I was in my 30s, but some of those guys were still teenagers. Others were 22 and 23 - babies, all of them.
I knew the shirt-swapping business in general was getting out of hand when opponents would ask me for my shirt while we were still mid-match. Those are the wrong priorities.
When I started Giorgio Armani in the mid-'70s, I realized that women needed a way to dress that was equivalent to that of men - something that would give them dignity, an attitude that would help them handle their work life.
I never let anyone lose their self-respect and make them wait in my office, or hurt them with my words, thoughts or actions. I give my e-mail address to anyone who seeks me out. I ask them to send me their work, and if I like it, I give them an opportunity.
At that speed, batsmen are almost trying to premeditate where the ball will be - they feel like they don't have time to react or move. That's the difference between bowling in the mid-80s and the mid-90s.
I was just utterly oblivious to how difficult it was, and how difficult it was going to be, and then also in the mid-eighties through the mid-nineties there was a boom of sorts. So there were plenty of stages. If I had started now, there would be very few places to get better and better.
In the mid nineteenth century, the typical murderer was a drunken illiterate; a hundred years later the typical murderer regards himself as a thinking man.
Even though I am in my mid-40s, I live like I am in my mid-20s.
From the mid-'70s to the mid-'90s, that was the golden age of the beach volleyball mystique. I was absolutely mesmerized by the best players of that time.
I wish I could take language And fold it like cool, moist rags. I would lay words on your forehead. I would wrap words on your wrists. 'There, there,' my words would say - Or something better. I would ask them to murmur, 'Hush' and 'Shh, shhh, it's all right.' I would ask them to hold you all night. I wish I could take language And daub and soothe and cool Where fever blisters and burns, Where fever turns yourself against you. I wish I could take language And heal the words that were the wounds You have no names for.
Is It Unloving to Speak of Hell? If you were giving some friends directions to Denver and you knew that one road led there but a second road ended at a sharp cliff around a blind corner, would you talk only about the safe road? No. You would tell them about both, especially if you knew that the road to destruction was wider and more traveled. In fact, it would be terribly unloving not to warn them about that other road.
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