A Quote by Rumi

What does this patch-sewing mean you ask? Eating and drinking. The heavy cloak of the body is always getting torn. You patch it with food and other ego-satisfactions. — © Rumi
What does this patch-sewing mean you ask? Eating and drinking. The heavy cloak of the body is always getting torn. You patch it with food and other ego-satisfactions.
Does Patch have a restraining order against him?' he read. 'Is Patch a felon?' 'Give-me-that!' I hissed furiously. Patch gave a soft laugh, and I knew he'd seen the next question. 'Does Patch have a girlfriend?
Well yoy did it,"I congratulated Patch. "I´m as trained as I´ll ever be-a lean, mean sword-fighting machine. I should have made you my personal trainer from day one." A rogue smile surfaced, slow and wicked. " No match for Patch." Patch&Nora (p.379)
After 60, it's just patch, patch, patch.
After 60, its just patch, patch, patch
After age 70, it's patch, patch, patch.
How does this whole guardian angel business work? Am I the only person who can see you? I mean, are you invisible to everyone else?" Patch stared at me like he hoped I wasn't serious. "You're not invisible?" I squeaked. "You have to get out of here!" I made a movement to push Patch off the bed but was cut short by a searing jab in my ribs. "She'll kill me if she finds you in here. Can you climb trees? Tell me you can climb a tree!" Patch grinned. "I can fly." Oh. Right. Well, okay.
At either end of any food chain you find a biological system-a patch of soil, a human body-and the health of one is connected-literally-to the health of the other.
Patch: “Let’s get out of here.” – Nora: “Where are we going?” – Patch: “You’ll see.
You didn’t tell me she was so soft on the eyes,” he said to Patch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He spoke with a heavy Irish accent. “I didn’t tell her how hard you are on them either,” Patch returned, his mouth at the relaxed stage just before a grin.
I’m going to grab a cheeseburger,” I told Patch. “Want anything?” “Nothing on the menu.” I smiled. “Why, Patch, are you flirting with me?
I study her,” Patch said. “I figure out what she’s thinking and feeling. She’s not going to come right out and tell me, which is why I have to pay attention. Does she turn her body toward mine? Does she hold my eyes, then look away? Does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way Nora is doing right now?” Laughter rose in the room. I dropped my hands to my lap. “She’s game,” said Patch, bumping my leg again. Of all things, I blushed.
I swear to you, Patch, to take your love and cherish it. And in return, to give you my body and my heart—everything I possess, I give to you. I am yours. Wholly and completely. Love me. Protect me. Fulfill me. And I promise to do the same.” ~ Nora + Patch
I'll be firm," I promised Patch, adopting a no-nonsense expression. "No backing down." By now Patch was full-on grinning. He kissed me again, and I felt my mouth soften its resolve. "You look cute when you're trying to be tough," he said.
In my case, I am improvising with existing sound files. I use an MSP patch that a friend of mine made, and you have to improvise when you use this patch. I don't use a guitar in performance anymore.
My dad was in the Army. The Army's not great pay, but, you know, we moved from Army patch to Army patch wherever that was. The Army also contributed to sending me off to boarding school.
But instead of taking the cue to leave, Patch crossed to Scott in three steps. He flung him around to face the wall. Scott tried to get his bearings, but Patch slammed him against the wall again, disorienting him further. “Touch her,” he said in Scott’s ear, his voice low and threatening, “and it’ll be the biggest regret of your life.” Before leaving, Patch flicked his eyes once in my direction. “He’s not worth it.” He paused. “And neither am I.
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