In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
Gonna be a twister to blow everything down That ain't got the faith to stand its ground Blow away the dreams that tear you apart Blow away the dreams that break your heart Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but lost and brokenhearted.
I have always felt comfortable in blue jeans. I have found it interesting, however, that people also whistle at blue jeans. I have to admit that I like mine to fit. There's nothing I hate worse than baggy blue jeans.
My waist is a 30. The jeans are a 28. When I fart, the Reeboks blow off.
You know, it's nothin' quick overnight. If anything happens to you quick, you need to start questioning that. You know, you hear young people go, aw, I'm gonna blow up. You gonna blow up but with a controlled explosion. Don't just blow up all over the place.
I like either skinny jeans or the ripped, casual, super-sloppy boyfriend jeans. A lot of ripped jeans. They are so early 2000, but they are so cute, I love them. I love surfer jeans, too!
I miss her. I don't know how to live without her. There is a hole inside me that nothing fills. If you don't find something to fill that hole, someone else will. And if someone else fills it, they own you. Forever. You'll never get yourself back.
I don't wear a lot of jeans, which I know is a controversial statement. I just don't feel the most like myself in jeans.
I like to travel in jeans because I don't want to wallow around in my suit, you know? They cost too much. Jeans are comfortable.
I'm a real blue jeans girl, I wear jeans all the time and I couldn't live without them. Jeans and blazers.
I was fascinated with jeans, because you can impress your life upon the jeans you wear. The way you sit imprints on the jeans.
I have jeans with holes in them and I have nice jeans. I have casual and I have dressy jeans. I've got all kinds.
I'm not going to do red jeans. No green jeans. I don't do Vans and that's the style right now. I don't want to show my socks when I'm wearing jeans.
I know the hole he went in at, but I can't tell you what hole he will come out of.
You didn't plan to write a story; it just happened. Well, it could be argued that the next thing you should do is find a hole to dig. Right? So you start digging a hole and then somebody brings a body along and puts it in. That's what a story must feel like to me. It's not that you say, "I want to write a story about a gravedigger." But you're walking along and "I don't know what I'm doing here in this story,' and - boop! a shovel. "Oh, interesting. Ok, what does one do with a shovel? Digs a hole. Why? I don't know yet. Dig the hole! Oh, look a body."
First, I blow a hole in your face; then I go back inside, and sleep like a baby... I guarantee you.