A Quote by Jonny Gomes
I'll be satisfied with what I've got at the end of the season, ... If I can play every day, the numbers will come.
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We got to be really good friends [Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau]. It was just thrilling, every day. Every single day. I had a big couple of musical numbers in [Out to Sea], and I remember doing one of them and shooting it from beginning to end.
Release and detach from every person, every circumstance, every condition, and every situation that no longer serves a divine purpose in your life. All things have a season, and all seasons must come to an end. Choose a new season, filled with purposeful thoughts and activities.
I've ultimately decided that I will not play this NBA season. I'm going to take the remainder of this season, as well as the upcoming off-season, to reassess my situation, spend time with my family and determine if I will play in the 2015-16 season.
Just go out there and play every day. Every day is a new day. Every day is the same day. You've got to just be ready to play.
I'm playing in the NFL and getting to compete with these guys every single day, getting to play in the pre-season games. That's a dream come true right there.
Being an Arsenal fan, at the end of every season I say the same thing: we've got a good team, a young team, hopefully, we'll be in the running for the league title next season.
Some games you going to play great. Some games you're not. So, it's all about moving on to the next game, next possession. Just come in there every day working, figuring out what you got to work on and see what you did wrong in either in the last game or the last season or whatever.
Everybody wants to play in Europe, and if you're in the rhythm of playing a game every three or four days, sometimes you can play better, even though it's harder at the end of the season.
O! that a man might know The end of this day's business, ere it come; But it sufficeth that the day will end, And then the end is known.
He will come with a mouth full of forevers and skin as sweet as spring time. He will kiss the places that hurt and will tell you the scars are beautiful. He will cover every inch of you in words he's learned and dress you in the colors of every season and he will not be the one. He will feel like a hurricane and you'll wonder how you will ever recover and rebuild.
But you will.
You always will.
And you'll realize he is not the one.
You've got to wake up and perfect your craft, every day, and at the end of the day, you know, you get the star power, magazines, photos shoots, but you've got to say humble, you've got to stay grounded.
The numbers are there just to help you - at the end of the day you've still got to make the decision. There are certain things the numbers can't quantify: They can't quantify injuries, they can't quantify the weather, they can't give you a number on whether the referee's going to make a good call or a bad call.
Every time a player goes out to ply his trade he's got to play from the ground up - from the soles of his feet right up to his head. Every inch of him has to play. Some guys play with their heads. That's O.K. You've got to be smart to be Number One in any business. But more important, you've got to play with you heart - with every fiber of your body. If you're lucky enough to find a guy with a lot of head and a lot of heart, he's never going to come off the field second.
It was true what Jim said, this wasn’t the end but the beginning. But the wars would end one day and Jim would come then, to the island they would share. One day surely the wars would end, and Jim would come home, if only to lie broken in MacMurrough’s arms, he would come to his island home. And MacMurrough would have it built for him, brick by brick, washed by the rain and the reckless sea. In the living stream they’d swim a season. For maybe it was true that no man is an island: but he believed that two very well might be.
As a kid, you just want to play football. For me one day it will end, but until the end I love getting the opportunity to go out there and play at a high level.
Ah when will this long weary day have end, And lend me leave to come unto my love? How slowly do the hours their numbers spend! How slowly does sad Time his feathers move!
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