Do you know how, when you are on the verge of a breakdown, the world pounds in your ears; a rush of blood, of consequence? Do you now how it feels when the truth cuts your tongue to ribbons, and still you have to speak it?
We all know the story of the prodigal son. Confident he knows what is best for him, he recklessly squanders his inheritance. The Occupy Wall Streeters are just that, the prodigal protesters.
Do you know how much coal China burns? In 2013, we already were burning 3.6 billion tons. And do you know how much coal the rest of the world burns? We burn more than the rest of the world combined.
Awareness is fire; it burns all that is wrong in you. It burns your ego. It burns your greed, it burns your possessiveness, it burns your jealousy - it burns all that is wrong and negative, and it enhances all that is beautiful, graceful, divine.
If toes had eyes, then I could see how my feet know where to go, but toes are blind. And how is it that my tongue speaks words it cannot hear? Because for all its eloquence, the tongue itself is deaf, and flaps in soundlessness.
I want a trouble-maker for a lover, Blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, Who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, Who burns like fire on the rushing sea.
To reclaim the prodigal is well, but to save him from ever being a prodigal is better.
Mankind are always found prodigal both of blood and treasure in the maintenance of public justice.
There is no tongue that flatters like a lover's; and yet, in the exaggeration of his feelings, flattery seems to him commonplace. Strange and prodigal exuberance, which soon exhausts itself by flowing!
Sometimes words drew blood, they cut your tongue, they made you know things you couldn't unknow.
I didn't know how...deep love ran, how it was in your blood, not your heart, and how that same blood pumped through your veins your whole life.
Blood of my heart, protection is thine. Life of my life, taking yours, taking mine Body of my body, marrow and mind Soul of my soul, to our spirit bind Blood of my heart, my tides, my moon Blood of my heart, my salvation, my doom
I think, being from east Tennessee, you're kinda born with a little lonesome in your soul, in your blood. You know you've got that Appalachian soul.
It is easy now to break the vows. It is even easier to part your ways if vows haven't been taken.
Not too many people are - were as good as Bob Hope. George Burns was great at thinking, you know, on the spot. Steve Allen was marvelous, and so was George Burns. But Bob may be the king of them all, you know.
I know how ingratitude burns, how falsehood tortures, for I have been deceived in friendship and in love; I have learned to lose and to resign myself.