A Quote by Yung Lean

I do love my Gucci slides. I wear them inside. I'm like an old Russian man who wears slides in his house. — © Yung Lean
I do love my Gucci slides. I wear them inside. I'm like an old Russian man who wears slides in his house.
A true man never frets about his place in the world, but just slides into it by the gravitation of his nature, and swings there as easily as a star.
What you learn in school is the opposite of what happens in the real world. In school, you're always worried about minimums. You have to reach 20 pages or you have to have so many slides or whatever. Then you get out in the real world and you think, 'I have to have a minimum of 20 pages and 50 slides.
What you learn in school is the opposite of what happens in the real world. In school, you're always worried about minimums. You have to reach 20 pages or you have to have so many slides or whatever. Then you get out in the real world and you think, 'I have to have a minimum of 20 pages and 50 slides.'
His eyes glow in the shadows as he slides the soft liquid semen dripping down my thigh in a path leading back into my swollen entry, as if he doesn't want to come out of my body. "Sticky?" he asks in a gruff murmur, bending his head and licking my shoulder as he pushes his semen back inside with one finger.
I love a lot of things, a whole lot of things / Like / My cousin comes to visit and you know he's from the South /'Cause every word he says just kind of slides out of his mouth / I like the way he whistles and I like the way he walks / But honey, let me tell you that I love the way he talks.
My mother had found this album of all these old slides from the '50s of me as a kid and I said, 'We should have these made into pictures because the color's so beautiful.' There were pictures of me from 1955 as a little baby wearing all these elaborate outfits, and in these pictures was this amazing story of a gay man and his mother.
We say justly that the weak person is flat, for, like all flat substances, he does not stand in the direction of his strength, that is, on his edge, but affords a convenient surface to put upon. He slides all the way through life.... But the brave man is a perfect sphere, which cannot fall on its flat side and is equally strong every way.
Parminder kept her unwept tears locked tightly inside where they seemed to undergo an alchemical transformation, returning to the outer world as lava slides of rage.
They say that God lives very high! But if you look above the pines You cannot see our God. And why? And if you dig down in the mines You never see Him in the gold, Though from Him all that's glory shines. God is so good, He wears a fold Of heaven and earth across His face - Like secrets kept, for love, untold. But still I feel that His embrace Slides down by thrills, through all things made, Through sight and sound of every place: As if my tender brother laid On my shut lids, her kisses' pressure, Half waking me at night; and said, "Who kissed through the dark, dear guesser?"
If I sit and daydream, the images rush by like a succession of colored slides.
Nobody's perfect. Everyone slides here and there, and they have their ups and downs. When they are down, that is not the time to step all over them.
I'm most excited about going swimming and riding water slides, shooting off fireworks, and playing basketball, and things like that. That's what I really love doing. Summer is a great time.
I wear my lines like a soldier wears his medals. They've been earned. They've been fought for - so there's no reason to be ashamed of them. In your 50s, you just care less about that sort of thing. I think it's to do with what's inside you. You can't obsess about the outside.
Every time a U.S.A. Today slides underneath my door, it's like they're saying, 'Hey, you're not that smart, right?'
Everywhere, giant finned cars nose forward like fish; a savage servility slides by on grease.
Sean reaches between us and slides a thin bracelet of red ribbons over my free hand. Lifting my arm, he presses his lips against the inside of my wrist. I'm utterly still; I feel my pulse tap several times against his lips, and then he releases my hand. "For luck," he says. He takes Dove's lead from me. "Sean," I say, and he turns. I take his chin and kiss his lips, hard. I'm reminded, all of a sudden, of that first day on the beach, when I pulled his head from the water. "For luck," I say to his startled face.
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