A Quote by Stewart Francis

Standing in the park, I was wondering why a frisbee looks larger the closer it gets...then it hit me — © Stewart Francis
Standing in the park, I was wondering why a frisbee looks larger the closer it gets...then it hit me
We were in this park in Canada throwing a frisbee around, and there was a homeless guy there who swore to God I was Mick Jagger. I kept telling him I wasn't, and he kept thinking I was Jagger and wanted to play frisbee with us. Then he heard a siren coming and thought I called the cops - and he ran away!
When you unite the nothingness of your mind with the nothingness of the Frisbee, then the Frisbee is not a Frisbee, and you are not you.
One thing I learned is that the park by the river in a recent story, 'Getting Closer,' is the same park by the river that appears for a moment near the end of 'The Eighth Voyage of Sinbad,' a story first published 23 years earlier. This echo at first irritated me, then pleased me deeply.
If I can hit a curveball, why can't I hit a ball that is standing still on a course?
Seeing family is what brings me peace. If I'm not traveling home on my day off, I love going to Central Park to be around trees and throw a Frisbee with my boyfriend.
For me, the teen years were all about searching for a place for myself, wondering why I seemed so different than everyone else, wondering especially why no one could look past the surface and figure out who I really was underneath.
To have an opportunity to get in front of a camera every single day is just priceless because it gets you closer and closer to being less self-consciousness in front of it and really being human and really making choices and standing by them.
Me being in Houston, I wanted to leave there because it was only known for one thing. That's why I hit N.Y.; that's why I hit L.A. That's why I hit Paris, London. I just picked up basically everything, but I morphed it into what Travi$ Scott is and into what I know is fresh.
If you and I took a walk down a shopping street in Jo'burg or Cape Town or London, we see two guys looking in a shop window, we think, "Oh, they're wondering what they're going to buy." A cop looks at them and thinks, "Why are they standing there? Are they doing a drug deal? Are they going to mug someone? Are they going to rob the shop?"
A couple of days back, I got into a car accident. Not my fault. Even if it's not your fault, the other person gets out of their car and looks at you like it's your fault: Why did you stop at a red light and let me hit you doing 80!
I like to change liquor stores frequently because the clerks got to know your habits if you went in night and day and bought huge quantities. I could feel them wondering why I wasn't dead yet and it made me uncomfortable. They probably weren't thinking any such thing, but then a man gets paranoid when he has 300 hangovers a year.
YOU are using a frisbee as a plate." "Uh, what? I'm not using a--oh hang on, this is a frisbee. Weird." Victor glared at me. "Dude, calm down, I'll wash it afterward. It's probably dishwasher safe.
But the guy who got hit and still tried to get in line, then gets hit again, that's the guy I will take with me on the field every day.
You can get caught up in the game, just like everybody else in the park. But I can't play favorites and hope this guy gets a hit or that guy gets an out. I have to make decisions based on data and common sense. I have to manage every game to win.
That's what stock-car racing is. You hit someone, or you get hit. That's something I had to learn. It's a key factor in why I'm so aggressive. I don't want to have to hit you. But if you're going to hit me, I'm going to hit you.
Playing frisbee with a five year old is amazingly similar to chasing after a frisbee.
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