A Quote by Kathy Burke

I didn't want to work on dry, old plays written by the dry, old dead. — © Kathy Burke
I didn't want to work on dry, old plays written by the dry, old dead.
If you have to dry the dishes (Such an awful boring chore) If you have to dry the dishes ('Stead of going to the store) If you have to dry the dishes And you drop one on the floor Maybe they won't let you Dry the dishes anymore
In drying plants, botanists often dry themselves. Dry words and dry facts will not fire hearts.
Twas a jolly old pedagogue, long ago, Tall and slender, and sallow and dry; His form was bent, and his gait was slow, His long thin hair was white as snow, But a wonderful twinkle shone in his eye. And he sang every night as he went to bed, "Let us be happy down here below: The living should live, though the dead be dead." Said the jolly old pedagogue long ago.
The visible world is a daily miracle for those who have eyes and ears; and I still warm hands thankfully at the old fire, though every year it is fed with the dry wood of more old memories.
Viewed from the distance of the moon, the astonishing thing about the earth, catching the breath, is that it is alive. The photographs show the dry, pounded surface of the moon in the foreground, dry as an old bone. Aloft, floating free beneath the moist, gleaming, membrane of bright blue sky, is the rising earth, the only exuberant thing in this part of the cosmos.
An old woman is always uneasy when dry bones are mentioned in a proverb
opening the book, i inhaled. the smell of old books, so sharp, so dry you can taste it.
He felt like an old sponge steeped in paraffin and left in the sun to dry.
I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die. I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports.... When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them.
Here I am, an old man in a dry month, Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain.
I think my best friend is dry shampoo and dry texturizer spray.
I grew up on black sand greens. The best tees were old, dry cowpies, believe it or not.
If I wash my hair in the morning, then I usually air-dry it. In warmer weather, if I walk my dog, by the time I am back in, it is usually nice and dry!
Dry happiness is like dry bread. We eat, but we do not dine. I wish for the superfluous, for the useless, for the extravagant, for the too much, for that which is not good for anything.
Me myself, Brian, I'm a Midwesterner at heart, and I have this deep, bone-dry sense of humor, and I've found it worked to combine this Barbie with a dry, sarcastic man.
The strength of a tree, the old ones say, comes not from growing thicker in the good years when there is water, but from staying alive in the bad, dry times.
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