A Quote by Henry Ford

I can visualize the time when almost every family will have a small plane in their back yard. — © Henry Ford
I can visualize the time when almost every family will have a small plane in their back yard.
It's promising and seductive, that huge Italian family, sitting around the dinner table, surrounded by olive trees. But it's not my family and I am not their family, and no amount of birthing sons, and cooking dinner and raking leaves or planting the gardens or paying for the plane tickets is going to change that. If I don't come back in eleven months, I will not be missed, and no one will write me or call me to acknowledge my absence. Which is not an accusation, just a small truth about clan and bloodline.
When I get on a plane, I kiss the plane and I tap it three times. If I don't do it... I have to do it. One time I sat in my seat and I had to get back up to touch the plane.
Okay, I'm going to let you in on a little secret: I'm a very superstitious person. I'm walking onto the plane as we speak. I'm putting my hands on the outside of the plane and my feet are on the lip of the plane. I have to do it every time before I fly.
My own back yard, and my mom and dad's back yard, is where I learned about tomatoes and weeds and daily maintenance.
We need to think less NIMBY (Not In My Back Yard), and more SWIMBY (Something Wonderful In My Back Yard)
I think there was something that made us not pay attention to climate change. Something that was up there. There was a saying when we were trying to pay attention to the environment that people used this phrase NIMBY - not in my back yard. People were saying, ‘I don’t care, it is not in my back yard.’ But now it’s in everyone’s back yard.
You don't need preparations for a family gathering. We have one almost every night where we meet, laugh, get drunk and come back home. We're one family that's happy among ourselves.
Some time ago we heard a strange story. The pilot of a small plane said that he had been caught in a one hundred fifty mile gale, which held his plane perfectly still. The motor was roaring, he claimed, but the plane was not moving. "It was weird," he said , "to be going one hundred fifty miles an hour and yet not be going anywhere at all."
I'm a small-town kid who grew up with a cornfield in the back yard and dreaming of serving my country in public office.
I loved every minute of my childhood - sunbathing on the fire escape, digging for buried treasure in the back yard, pulling alewives out of the sand... Then it was all taken away from me. I came back every summer to visit my father until I was 18, but I was always the outsider.
I was always impressed by how much my dad went out in the yard and played with me and my siblings when we were kids. I'm sure he was tired coming back from work, since he traveled a lot. But he always took time out of his day to go out in the yard.
On the plane was a Time magazine and there was a 30 page article on diabetes, and I read every page. By the time that plane landed, I had diabetes.
A lot of golfers take the club back with almost no upper-body rotation - they're all arms. And even when they do rotate back, it's usually on a flat shoulder plane. If your shoulders turn back fairly level with the ground, it's hard to swing down from inside the target line and hit an accurate shot.
We have the bad habit, some of us, of looking back to a time - almost any time will do - when society was stable and orderly, family ties stronger and deeper, love more lasting and faithful, and so on. Let me be your Cassandra prophesying after the fact, and a long study of the documents in the case: it was never true, that is, no truer than it is now.
It is true that I visualize music and, as I visualize music, I have some sort of story running in my head, all the time.
Try looking at your mind as a wayward puppy that you are trying to paper train. You don't drop-kick a puppy into the neighbor's yard every time it piddles on the floor. You just keep bringing it back to the newspaper.
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