A Quote by Mark Beeson

When Love runs through the front door fear runs out the back. — © Mark Beeson
When Love runs through the front door fear runs out the back.

Quote Author

Mark Beeson
Born: 1962
When enthusiasm runs in the front door, worry runs out the back door.
The kundalini runs through you. It runs through the ida and the pingala, the two nerve channels in the subtle body; but there's a central channel, the shushumna, which is blocked. When it runs through that, then you can use the mystical kundalini.
Even if that is so, there will remain A word wakened by lips that perish, A tireless messenger who runs and runs Through interstellar fields, through the revolving galaxies, And calls out, protests, screams.
A little man is running a jewelry store. A man runs in saying, Okay, take my watch, put on a new band, install a new battery, clean the case, install a new crystal, and tune it up. I will be back in a half hour for it. Thanks! and runs out the door. The little jeweler says, C-C-C-Come in?
The same stream of life that runs through the world runs through my veins night and day.
I used to feel like not scoring runs is the worst thing in life but I started thinking: 'No, at least I'm getting to go out on the field wearing the Indian jersey.' Not many get to do that. I am lucky. Now, if I get runs or don't get runs, I'm just going out there trying to enjoy my cricket.
Runs are runs, even if they are coming off playing cut shots or in front, but it's not like T20 can only be played with big shots.
From its fountains In the mountains, Its rills and its gills; Through moss and through brake, It runs and it creeps For awhile till it sleeps In its own little Lake. And thence at departing, Awakening and starting, It runs through the reeds And away it proceeds, Through meadow and glade, In sun and in shade, And through the wood-shelter, Among crags in its flurry, Helter-skelter, Hurry-scurry.
Crazy Love is crazy good! Leslie What's brain is evidently crowded with strangeness, awfulness, wonderfulness, wildness, madness of all kinds...and love. Lots of love. How lucky we are that her imagination runs deep, runs true, runs onto the page in crazily beautiful stories -- and lucky, so very lucky, to be holding those stories right now in our hands.
Summer runs out the way a centerfielder runs out of real estate - slowly at first, then all at once.
Every storm runs, runs out of rain
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
On the actual competition days, you get about three or four hours of physical exertion - between an hour-long warm-up, recovery in-between runs, the training runs, and then the runs themselves.
Teenagers don't know what love is. They have mixed-up ideas. They go for a drive and the boy runs out of gas and they smooch a little and the girl says she loves him. That isn't love. Love is when you are married twenty-five years, smooching in your living room and he runs out of gas and she says she still loves him. That's love.
I am the thread that runs through all these pearls, and each pearl is a religion or even a sect thereof. Such are the different pearls, and God is the thread that runs through all of them; most people, however, are entirely unconscious of it.
There's no secret about it: Every team does things differently. Seattle runs their program one way. New England runs it another way. Philly runs it another way.
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