A Quote by Rogers Hornsby

People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring. — © Rogers Hornsby
People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.
I stare out the window and wait for spring.
In winter, play with the snow; in summer, play with the Sun! Do not wait for something to come; everything is already here! In autumn, play with the leaves, in spring, play with the flowers! In summer, don't wait for the winter; in winter, don't wait for the summer! Everything is already here, in this present time you live in!
In the old days, writers used to sit in front of a typewriter and stare out of the window. Nowadays, because of the marvels of convergent technology, the thing you type on and the window you stare out of are now the same thing.
When you can't smoke, if you stand and stare out of the window on your own, you're an antisocial, friendless idiot. If you stand and stare out of the window on your own with a cigarette, you're a philosopher.
Give me a window and I'll stare out it.
Do not wish an everlasting spring! Without tasting the winter, you cannot get pleasure out of the spring!
Through winter-time we call on spring, And through the spring on summer call, And when the abounding hedges ring Declare that winter's best of all: And after that there's nothing good Because the spring time has not come- Not know that what disturbs our blood Is but its longing for the tomb.
Autumn to winter, winter into spring, Spring into summer, summer into fall,-- So rolls the changing year, and so we change; Motion so swift, we know not that we move.
Baseball means Spring's Here. Football means Winter's Coming.
When we feel weak, all we have to do is wait a little while. The spring returns and the winter snows melt and fill us with new energy.
Spring is the season of gaiety, and winter of terror; in spring the heart of tranquility dances to the melody of the groves, and the eye of benevolence sparkles at the sight of happiness and plenty: in winter, compassion melts at universal calamity, and the tear of softness starts at the wailing of hunger and the cries of the creation in distress
I stuck my head out the window this morning and spring kissed me bang in the face.
I get a good colour in summer but go really pale in winter, and it genuinely doesn't suit me, as people ask me if I'm ill. As well as making me look a bit better, I often have to be tanned in the middle of winter to do a show or programme, so I've road-tested every fake tan on the market.
The great thing about baseball is when you're done, you'll only tell your grandchildren the good things. If they ask me about 1989, I'll tell them I had amnesia.
The funny thing is, when I ask people with dark skin if they would change their color, they tell me no, and when I ask women if they would rather be men, they tell me no, and I get the same response when I ask people with unusual anatomies if they would take a magic pill to erase their unusual features.
watch out fer these fellers around here. It ain't safe fer a pretty girl. Why, I had one just now tell me I looked like a breath of spring. Well, he didn't use them words, exactly. He said I looked like the end of a hard winter.
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