A Quote by Sid Waddell

Under that heart of stone beat muscles of pure flint. — © Sid Waddell
Under that heart of stone beat muscles of pure flint.
The bartenders are the regular band of Jack, and the heavenly drummer who looks up to the sky with blue eyes, with a beard, is wailing beer-caps of bottles and jamming on the cash register and everything is going to the beat - It's the beat generation, its béat, it's the beat to keep, it's the beat of the heart, it's being beat and down in the world and like oldtime lowdown.
Fairy tales have rules. You are a princess or you aren’t. You are pure at heart or you aren’t. If you are pure at heart, or lucky, you might catch a break.
It is safe to tell the pure in heart that they shall see God, for only the pure in heart want to.
All these disciplines are for the purification of the heart. And as soon as it is pure, all truths flash upon it in a minute; all truth in the universe will manifest in your heart, if you are sufficiently pure.
Whenever there is a conflict between the pure heart and the intellect, always side with the pure heart.
I always pick characters where it's not his muscles or dance skills that help him, because not all of us can look like that. I am more like someone who'd beat up ten guys, not with his muscles, but his strategy.
The alchemist of the West has turned stone into glass But my alchemy has transmuted glass into flint Pharaohs of today have stalked me in vain
Prayer gives us a pure heart and a pure heart can do much.
Only a pure heart, a completely pure heart can house eternity.
He who has a pure heart will never cease to pray; and he who will be constant in prayer, shall know what it is to have a pure heart.
If we are pure at heart, we would not wish one person well and not another. We should see there is no difference between one person or another. Then our pure thoughts can be evenly spread between all people. Sunshine can reflect on clean water but not on dirty water. God's light will be reflected by those persons with a pure heart.
What happened in Flint is immoral. The children of Flint are just as precious as the children of any other part of America.
The sea does not contain all the pearls, the earth does not enclose all the treasures, and the flint-stone does not inclose all the diamonds, since the head of man encloses wisdom.
Now I know surely and forever, However much I have blotted our Waking love, its memory is still there. And I know the web, the net, The blind and crippled bird. For then, for One brief instant it was not blind, nor Trapped, not crippled. For one heart beat the Heart was free and moved itself. O love, I who am lost and damned with words, Whose words are a business and an art, I have no words. These words, this poem, this Is all confusion and ignorance. But I know that coached by your sweet heart, My heart beat one free beat and sent Through all my flesh the blood of truth.
Every thing thinks, but according to its complexity. If this is so, then stones also think...and this stone thinks only I stone, I stone, I stone. But perhaps it cannot even say I. It thinks: Stone, stone, stone... God enjoys being All, as this stone enjoys being almost nothing, but since it knows no other way of being, it is pleased with its own way, eternally satisfied with itself.
I had a newspaper in Flint, Michigan called the 'Flint Voice,' and so it was a, you know, underground, alternative newspaper that I edited and put out for about ten years.
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