A Quote by Sarah Harding

I don't like balloons. — © Sarah Harding
I don't like balloons.

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I write scripts in storyboard fashion using stick figures, and thought balloons and word balloons and captions. Then I'll write descriptions of what scenes should look like and turn it over to the artist.
I write scripts in storyboard fashion using stick figures, and thought balloons and word balloons and captions. Then I'll write descriptions of what scenes should look like and turn it over to the artist
All my life, I have loved balloons - all balloons - the heavy English sort, immense and round, that have to be pushed about, and the gay, light, gas-filled French ones that soar into the air the moment you let go of them.
I absolutely get thrills from taking on these big guys and recognizing how, behind all their power, they are so empty. I just keep going at it. Each of these balloons does deflate. I?ve seen a lot of balloons get deflated in my life.
Pushing a company agenda on social media is like throwing water balloons at a porcupine.
There is a savor of life and immortality in substantial fare. Like balloons, we are nothing till filled.
Southampton's barrage balloons floated gleaming in the moonlight like the ghosts of elephants and hippos.
Trump lies when confronted with the truth, since any crack in his narcissism might spread like an Ebola of the soul, and he would deflate like one of Macy's balloons on the Friday after Thanksgiving.
You should see my baby pictures. My cheeks hung off my face like water balloons. You can imagine how often I was teased.
I start my day with a hot water and lemon routine. I meditate. And I take my problems lightly, like my mother always said: treat them like helium balloons and let them go. I devour a lot of books to feed my mind.
She was not filled up with the sight of him, the way she had seen her sisters fill up, like silk balloons, like wineskins. Instead, he seemed to land heavily within her, like a black stone falling.
But the true voyagers are only those who leave Just to be leaving; hearts light, like balloons, They never turn aside from their fatality And without knowing why they always say: "Let's go!
In a way, I'm always working with Mick Jones. I feel like he's watching over me all the time. We talk about everything: history quite a lot. Balloons and wars and old football players. The Clash.
We buy balloons, we let them go.
I work a lot with dynamics of how loud I'm talking, like speaking into balloons and then feeling the texture on my fingertips, and then I get used to the feeling on my throat.
Those who flashin' don't blast, they still buffoons, Just blowin out hot air, they should fill balloons. I'm like them shorties that could kill for goons, They started hustlin' in April to cop wheels in June.
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