And secondly, I would impose a significant state landfill tipping fee and use that tipping fee to fund the billion dollar bond issue that I want to create to produce the funds for all of the environmental challenges that we just went over.
Understand tipping culture. Whereas Americans tip 15-20% when dining out, most European countries don't tip, as a service charge is typically included in the bill. Make sure you're not over-tipping by doing research before traveling.
At times the whole sky was ringed in shooting points and puckers of light gathering and falling, pulsing, fading, rhythmical as breathing. All of a piece. As if the sky were a pattern of nerves and our thought and memories traveled across it. As if the sky were one gigantic memory for us all.
If you look up at the sky after falling down the blue sky is also today stretching limitlessly and smiles at me... I'm alive.
The Cicada sing an endless song in the long grass, smells run along the earth and falling stars run over the sky, like tears over a cheek. You are the privileged person to whom everything is taken. The Kings of Tarshish shall bring gifts.
Kept falling in and out of it [sleep] like out of a boat or a tipping hammock.
All my life, I have been in love with the sky. Even when everything was falling apart around me, the sky was always there for me.
At the end of your days, be leaning forwards, not falling backwards.
I fell off a wall in Cockermouth when I was 18. The slate on the top of the wall was loose and I tried to jump up and sit on it. I ended up falling backwards and the tile ended up falling back onto my hand.
We used to go around tipping outhouses over, or turning over corn shocks on Halloween. Anything to be mean.
A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.
Sky of blackness and sorrow, sky of love, sky of tears. Sky of glory and sadness, sky of mercy, sky of fear.
I'm not falling anymore. That's what L says, and she's right. I guess you could say I'm flying. We both are. And I'm pretty sure somewhere up there in the real blue sky and carpenter bee greatness, Amma's flying, too. We all are, depending on how you look at it. Flying or falling, it's up to us. Because the sky isn't really made of blue paint, and there aren't just two kinds of people in this world, the stupid and the stuck. We only think there are. Don't waste your time with either-with anything. It's not worth it.
The leaves are falling, falling as from way off, as though far gardens withered in the skies; they are falling with denying gestures. And in the nights the heavy earth is falling from all the stars down into loneliness. We all are falling. This hand falls. And look at others: it is in them all. And yet there is one who holds this falling endlessly gently in his hands.
I love a bit of 'Tipping Point'; I sit there and sometimes the dog starts watching it. It's just like the going in and out and the coins falling, it can be quite trance-like.
May you always see a blue sky overhead, my young friend; and then, even when the time comes, as it has come for me now, when the woods are black, when night is fast falling, you will be able to console yourself, as I do, by looking up at the sky.