A Quote by Winston Churchill

A man can wear out a particular part of his mind by continually using and tiring it, just in the same way he can wear out the elbows of his coat. — © Winston Churchill
A man can wear out a particular part of his mind by continually using and tiring it, just in the same way he can wear out the elbows of his coat.
I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul.
I love people who expect me to wear great, feathery costumes- and I do it. It's like an actor getting into his costume for his part. I don't really feel that part until I'm into whatever I'm going to wear.
Basically, I'm in a kilt and a white shirt every day. So, you know, I don't have a lot of scope, and I'm really picky about what I wear. Even if it's weird, it's very particular to me. And you can't make a business out of what I would wear. We'd be out of business.
A lot of women say to me, "Polly, why aren't there more clothes out there that we can wear?" And I don't agree with them! There are clothes out there that they can wear - it's just that they don't dare to wear them.
More like Cross blew your circuits during one of his sexathons. Still can’t get over that man’s stamina. Wish he’d swing my way and wear me out.
A feller's glad to be a friend, Out fishin'. A helpin' hand he'll always lend, Out fishin' The brotherhood of rod and line An' sky an' stream is always fine; Men come real close to God's design, Out fishin'. A feller isn't plotting schemes, Out fishin'. He's only busy with his dreams, Out fishin' His livery is a coat of tan; His creed, to do the best he can; A feller's always mostly man Out fishin'.
Church always seemed the same. Jess could tune it out the same way he tuned out school, with his body standing up and sitting down in unison with the rest of the congregation but his mind numb and floating, not really thinking or dreaming but at least free.
Fashion is that horrid little man with an evil eye who tells you that your last winter's coat may be in perfect physical condition, but you can't wear it. You can't wear it because it has a belt and this year 'we are not showing belts.
I feel like I wear kind of the same things on stage that I would wear every day, unless I'm being lazy, and then I just wear trackies. But actually, if I'm honest, I wouldn't really walk down Kilburn High Street in a leotard, and I would wear that onstage.
I wear all my T-shirts from Helmut Lang with the holes in the elbows, which people always speak of. When my husband gets a hole in his sweater, at his elbow, he says, "It's very Helmut Lang!"
If you eat chicken, maybe you're on one level. If you wear a mink coat, maybe you're on another level. But if you wear cosmetics, cosmetics that are tested on animals, then you're just unconscious. Really, my message is simple. It's a message of compassion. In this world that is spinning madly out of control, we have to realize that we're all related. We have to try to live harmoniously.
All I can hope to do is instill great morality in my son and trust him along the way. The music he listens to or how he chooses to wear his hair doesn't define his moral compass, and if he wants to listen to country music and wear a cowboy hat too, that's fine.
He looked glad to be on his way and made a beeline for the exit. Just as he was out the door, however, he stuck his head back in. “I don’t mind foreigners. God save the queen!” he squeaked, and ran. Bones arched a brow. I sighed. “Didn’t hear that part? Never mind. Don’t ask.
We should, I believe, beware of the pitfalls described by Taine: 'Imagine a man who sets out on a voyage equipped with a pair of spectacles that magnify things to an extraordinary degree. A hair on his hand, a spot on the tablecloth, the shifting fold of a coat, all will attract his attention; at this rate, he will not go far, he will spend his day taking six steps and will never get out of his room.' We have to get out of this room.
He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, carelessly, And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, To bring it into danger.
There's still a part of me that believes what was great about 'Doctor Who' in the early days was that you had a superhero who didn't wear his underpants on the outside of his trousers, who used his brain rather than his brawn.
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