A Quote by E. B. White

I have noticed that most men when they enter a barber shop and must wait their turn, drop into a chair and pick up a magazine. I simply sit down and pick up the thread of my sea wanderings, which began more than fifty years ago and is not quite ended. There is hardly a waiting room in the east that has not served as my cockpit, whether I was waiting to board a train or to see a dentist. And I am usually still trimming sheets when the train starts or drill begins to whine.
…. Query: How contrive not to waste one's time? Answer: By being fully aware of it all the while. Ways in which this can be done: By spending one's days on an uneasy chair in a dentist's waiting-room; by remaining on one's balcony all of a Sunday afternoon; by listening to lectures in a language on doesn't know; by traveling by the longest and least-convenient train routes, and of course standing all the way; by lining up at the box-office of theaters and then not buying a seat; and so forth.
I do not know why there is this difference, but I am sure that God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wait. When you do enter your room, you will find that the long wait has done you some kind of good which you would not have had otherwise. But you must regard it as waiting, not as camping. You must keep on praying for light: and of course, even in the hall, you must begin trying to obey the rules which are common to the whole house. And above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and paneling.
I hate the waiting room. Because it's called the waiting room, there's no chance of not waiting. It's built, designed, and intended for waiting. Why would they take you right away when they've got this room all set up?
It was like the classic scene in the movies where one lover is on the train and one is on the platform and the train starts to pull away, and the lover on the platform begins to trot along and then jog and then sprint and then gives up altogether as the train speeds irrevocably off. Except in this case I was all the parts: I was the lover on the platform, I was the lover on the train. And I was also the train.
You sit at the board and suddenly your heart leaps. Your hand trembles to pick up the piece and move it. But what chess teaches you is that you must sit there calmly and think about whether it's really a good idea and whether there are other, better ideas.
Some things are easier to parrellelize than others. It's pretty easy to train up 100 models and pick the best one. If you want to train one big model but do it on hundreds of machines, that's a lot harder to parallelize.
Women apparently are quite drawn to men who have differences rather than similarities in their histocompatibility system. They pick it up by smell, and they can pick it up from kissing.
Mostly, I am waiting. Got to finish the edit, I am waiting. Dubbing must get over, I am waiting. Waiting for shoot. Waiting for the set. When you are waiting, your mind isn't relaxed enough to watch a film.
Whenever we go to the cinema in Mexico, we have to get taken in two minutes before the film starts. We sit in a little room and wait for everyone else to sit down, or it becomes very difficult. Then, afterwards, there are people outside waiting for me.
I truly believe that we each have a House of Belonging waiting for us. Waiting to be found, waiting to be built, waiting to be renovated, waiting to be cleaned up. Waiting to rescue us. Waiting for the real thing: a grown-up, romantic, reciprocal relationship.
As a player, you just pick up your kit, go out, and train or wait for the ref to blow the whistle.
Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for Henry. He vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait for him. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?
In Beverly Hills, around 3 P.M. on Bedford Drive, a strange rite occurs. All the men and women who have had facial surgery leave the their surgeons and walk up and down the street bandaged like mummies in Prada, waiting for their loved ones to pick them up.
Honey, I am the chief of my train. If critics want to hop on board, fantastic. There's plenty of room. The KP train is fun.
God picks you up. You don't pick yourself up. You're the one who knocked you down or even if somebody else knocked you down, your willingness to believe that what they said had value, was your conspiring with them, with their effort to knock you down - I've never been able to get myself up and I've noticed that every time I ask God to pick me up - he does.
It is totally different making films in the East than in the West. In the East, I make my own Jackie Chan films, and it's like my family. Sometimes I pick up the camera because I choreograph all the fighting scenes, even when I'm not fighting. I don't have my own chair. I just sit on the set with everybody.
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