A Quote by Monique Leyrac

In New York, they understood that my country was not a country, but winter. And that my road was not really a road, but snow. — © Monique Leyrac
In New York, they understood that my country was not a country, but winter. And that my road was not really a road, but snow.
The road to the Olympics, leads to no city, no country. It goes far beyond New York or Moscow, ancient Greece or Nazi Germany. The road to the Olympics leads — in the end — to the best within us.
Hope is like a road in the country; there was never a road, but when many people walk on it, the road comes into existence.
What's your road, man? - holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow. Where body how?
Even at the end of the road, read the first sentence, there is a road. Even at the end of the road, a new road stretches out, endless and open, a road that may lead anywhere. To him who will find it, there is always a road.
Winter is on the road to spring. Some think it a surly road. I do not. A primrose road to spring were not as engaging to my heart as a frozen icicled craggy way angered over by strong winds that never take the iron trumpets from their lips.
We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows, the vanishing roads of the winds and the streams, the vanishing road of beloved faces.
The road has been viewed as a male turf. If you think of the classic "Odyssey," of, you know, classical literature or Jack Kerouac or almost any road story, it's really about a man on the road. There's an assumption that the road is too dangerous for women.
It sounds really over the top to say you're responsible for the city of New York, but I do feel responsibility to the city of New York, to this country, to people everywhere. So many people were affected by the events of September 11, and I feel this is one of the ways that that event will be understood and defined.
It reminded me of what Dad said after every snail’s crawl home from Albany when snow hit.“It’s New York, people. It’s winter. We get snow. If you aren’t prepared to deal with it, move to Miami.
The road is a fun place, and it's a great place to get out there and explore the country. But as far as the road life with the 'rock n' roll temptations,' there's not much of that with me.
Anywhere in New York, anywhere in the country, somewhere there's going to be a Coke sign. People identify with Coke. You can write a novel about New York and people from the country will read it if they feel that you've made them familiar with New York.
The paramount problem... is how to make this new form of property ownership a workable agent toward repeopleizing the proprietorship of the country's industries. Open to the wage-earner of the country the road to proprietorship... not as a gratuity, but as their proper allotment out of the combined forces that have made the enterprise successful.
I encourage people to take the road less travelled, explore the abundant off-beat locations. Take road trips, soak in some breathtaking experiences, and enjoy the scenic landscapes that our country has to offer.
The question is not whether a doctrine is beautiful but whether it is true. When we wish to go to a place, we do not ask whether the road leads through a pretty country, but whether it is the right road.
If you know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and road construction, you may live in Canada
To build a road is so much simpler than to think of what the country really needs.
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