A Quote by Bruce Springsteen

Time slips away and leaves you with nothing, mister, but boring stories of glory days. — © Bruce Springsteen
Time slips away and leaves you with nothing, mister, but boring stories of glory days.
Just sitting back trying to recapture a little of the glory of... Well, the time slips away and leaves you with nothing, mister, but boring stories of Glory days - yeah, they'll pass you by, Glory days - in the wink of a young girl's eye.
In England, it's now Sir Ben. Mister has just disappeared. It's not even on my passport anymore. They've taken Mister away from me.
Indeed, when God's glory dwells in me, there is nothing too far away, nothing too painful, nothing too strange or too familiar that it cannot contain and renew by its touch. Every time I recognize the glory of God in me and give it space to manifest itself to me, all that is human can be brought there and nothing will be the same again.
The reason that we called the album 'Glory Days' is because we're gonna look back on this time and say that it was the glory days, the best time of our life. Hopefully our fans can share that with us.
Nothing could be closer than the present, yet nothing slips away faster.
People are bewitched into believing that time slips away, and this belief is the basis of time actually slipping away.
The falling leaves drift by the window The autumn leaves of red and gold.... I see your lips, the summer kisses The sunburned hands, I used to hold Since you went away, the days grow long And soon I'll hear ol' winter's song. But I miss you most of all my darling, When autumn leaves start to fall.
Frost is but slender weeks away, Tonight the sunset glow will stay, Swing to the north and burn up higher And Northern Lights wall earth with fire. Nothing is lost yet, nothing broken, And yet the cold blue word is spoken: Say goodbye to the sun. The days of love and leaves are done.
What did I tell you about Mister Safety Catch?' said Vimes weakly. When Mister Safety Catch Is Not On, Mister Crossbow Is Not Your Friend,' recited Detritus, saluting.
Willie said normal was boring and that I should be grateful that I had a touch of spice. She said no one cared about boring people, and when they died, they were forgotten, like something that slips behind the dresser.
At its very core the story of Easter has nothing to do with angelic announcements or empty tombs. It has nothing to do with time periods, whether three days, forty days, or fifty days. It has nothing to do with resuscitated bodies that appear and disappear or that finally exit this world in a heavenly ascension.
I live the most boring life, away from what you see me on camera doing. The other 300 days out of the year [not touring], I'm just the most normal person in the universe. I'm a wife. I'm a mother to my doggies. I'm a maid, and I clean the house. I'm pretty boring.
GATHERING LEAVES Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise Of rustling all day Like rabbit and deer Running away. But the mountains I raise Elude my embrace, Flowing over my arms And into my face. I may load and unload Again and again Till I fill the whole shed, And what have I then? Next to nothing for weight, And since they grew duller From contact with earth, Next to nothing for color. Next to nothing for use. But a crop is a crop, And who's to say where The harvest shall stop?
That is why I can never walk away from wrestling because there's this moment - the bell rings and everything slips away. The path, the future. There's nothing but that moment right in front of you where the intensity is high, the risk and reward are high, and you have to enter into a mental state that doesn't allow for hesitation.
Every great story leaves you questioning. If all of the questions are answered, and everything is resolved, it's boring. There's nothing to talk about afterwards.
I like telling stories, and I tell stories that interest me. It would be boring to have to go to nothing but the best restaurants. That would be a misery to me.
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