Top 134 Ankles Quotes & Sayings - Page 2

When my ancestors came from Africa, they were shackled by our neck, our wrists, and our ankles in steel chains. I've turned those steel chains into gold to symbolize the fact that I'm still a slave, only my price tag is higher.

Tell me where you want it,” I said. Minias drew back, his purple robes shifting about his ankles. “You’re asking me?” “Well, unless you want a big R on your forehead.

If I don't get food in my mouth, I'm still happy. If my pants are round my ankles, as long as I don't get arrested for indecent exposure, I'm happy. I'm worried about keeping my hair, not how it's combed.

I've always considered myself a workaholic... The way I work, I have to turn myself upside down and hang myself by my ankles and wring myself out like a wet sweater, and I have to do that with other people, too, because I think that's where something good comes out.

Women to whom one has just been introduced think that it breaks the ice if they scream, 'Goodness, you're tall!' How would they like it if I broke the ice first, by screaming 'Goodness, what thick ankles!' or 'Goodness, what a bust!

You can be beautiful with big breasts; you can be beautiful in your 40s. If you don't have perfect ankles, still you can move your legs in a certain way and look very sexy.

Thoughts are slippery fish in a cold shallow stream.If you are intent on capturing a worthwhile one, you need to stand very still, focus very hard on somewhere outside yourself, and then simply ignore it until it gets so close that it tickles your ankles.Then, pounce.

I'm pretty cautious and not very athletic, so I've only had really dumb injuries, like sprained ankles and allergic reactions. I did have to go to the hospital after slicing my finger while trying to cut a Kaiser roll in half.

A man could come in the room with his hair not cut, not done, pants around his ankles and people still gon' be like, 'Oh, that's his style. It's cool.' Being a woman, you have to be on your P's and Q's at all times, because not only do you have to keep up your appearance for men, but other women judge you so hard.

My eyes are too big, my nose is too flat, my ears stick out, my mouth is too big and my face is too small... my body is thin as a clarinet and my ankles are so skinny that I wear two pairs of bobby socks because I don't want people to see how thin they are.

If I am going up a ladder, and a dog begins to bite at my ankles, I can do one of two things - either turn round and kick out at the it, or simply go on up the ladder. I prefer to go up the ladder!

These wrinkles are nothing These gray hairs are nothing, This stomach which sags with old food, these bruised and swollen ankles, my darkening brain, they are nothing. I am the same boy my mother used to kiss.

Normal. She wasn't normal. A girl Graced with killing, a royal thug? A girl who didn't want the husbands Randa pushed on her, perfectly handsome and thoughtful men, a girl who panicked at the thought of a baby at her breast, or clinging to her ankles.

I did mega-training with ex-military men. I'd be in the gym for two hours after a 12-hour day on Spooks, and it was so hardcore I'd throw up. I stuffed myself with food and drank protein shakes to bulk up. I used to be a dancer, but I had to strap my weak ankles every day and strengthen my wrists so I could hold a machine gun. My body just wasn't up to it.

There is a part of childhood that is childish, and a part that is sacred. Suddenly we are touching the sacred part -- running to the shoreline, feeling the first cold burst of water on our ankles, reaching into the tide to catch at shells before they ebb away from our fingers. We have returned to a world that is capable of glistening, and we are wading deeper within it.

After 'Kong,' my knuckles have never recovered because I had to wear very heavy weights on my forearms and around my hips and ankles to get the sense of size and scale of the movement of the character You are telling your body that you are these things and that you're feeling these thoughts and that you're experiencing these experiences.

I am not too keen on my nose, I don't like my knees, I hate my ankles, I am unsure about my behind, I don't like my legs at all. I am not too sure about my chin, my forehead is a bit dodgy. But, overall, I can live with it.

When I was 13, I was in my tent at Girl Scout camp, trying to change out of my bathing suit and talking at the same time. I fell out of the tent in front of everyone with my bathing suit around my ankles. I was humiliated - but no amount of humiliation has ever seemed to stop me.

As a young boy growing up in New York City, we would spend our summers on the South Fork of Long Island. My dad would take me down to the beach at low tide. We would walk a mile down to the jetties, and he would lower me by my ankles into the crevices between the massive boulders to grab at huge ropes of mussels.

My dad and I, we used to play baseball. I was the catcher. Which I liked. Until one day, I saw this game on TV, and I said, Hang on, how come their catcher doesn't have his hands tied to his ankles?

I have asked the village blacksmith to forge golden chains to tie our ankles together. I have gathered all the gay ribbons in the world to wind around and around and around and around and around and around again around our two waists.

In books, day breaks, and night falls. In life, night rises from the ground. The day hangs on for as long as it can, bright and eager, absolutely and positively the last guest to leave the party, while the ground darkens, oozing night around your ankles, swallowing for ever that dropped contact lens, making you miss that low catch in the gully on the last ball of the last over.

The street is where we all learn. I played organized football growing up as well, but when that was over, I went right to the street. I remember twisting my ankles, breaking my thumb, I hurt everything when I was little playing street ball.

I have really good legs for jumping. I have terrible ankles for landing. I wasn't as good fundamentally as John Stockton or Steve Nash, so I had to play like an athlete, in the air all the time, coming down in vulnerable positions.

Ankles are nearly always neat and good-looking, but knees are nearly always not.

I always say, men's ankles are kind of like men's version of cleavage. That's what I think, because it's sexy. It shows, like, you dare to go there.

When I was doing 'A Disappearing Number' in Plymouth, we had to go on an hour and a half late, and I still hadn't written an end, so we had to make one up, and then we had to go out literally with our pants round our ankles.

After 'Kong,' my knuckles have never recovered because I had to wear very heavy weights on my forearms and around my hips and ankles to get the sense of size and scale of the movement of the character... You are telling your body that you are these things and that you're feeling these thoughts and that you're experiencing these experiences.

During the Volvo China Open in April 2011, a lot of players fell ill. My son also was taken ill. I contracted a strange viral later, which had symptoms of swollen ankles and wrists and has left me weakened.

I went to extreme measures to achieve my goals, from strapping heavy sandbags on my ankles, hopping on one leg, up and down four flights of stairs at 5 am to practice my turns in front of the candle light when others are asleep. I felt like that I had climbed many tall mountains and made so many impossible dreams come true through sheer determination, perseverance, passion, self conviction and belief.

I think the two exercises that have helped me the most include using the bands with my ankles, and then another one of my favorites is where I lean on a balloon-shaped ball with my forehead touching it and rotate my head front, back and sideways to build up the muscles and ligaments in my neck.

Old age is a wonderful time of life. At least, that's what everyone tells you. But let me tell you: it is not true. What's true is that your hips, knees and ankles gradually give up on you - everything is quite dreadful, really. And it was a terrible thing to have told us because we believed it.

And when you sense a faint potentiality for happiness after such dark times you must grab onto the ankles of that happiness and not let go until it drags you face-first out of the dirt - this is not selfishness, but obligation. You were given life; it is your duty to find something beautiful within life no matter how slight.

Don't fight your demons. Your demons are here to teach you lessons. Sit down with your demons and have a drink and a chat and learn their names and talk about the burns on their fingers and scratches on their ankles. Some of them are very nice.

I've broken probably every major bone in my body. I currently have, in my body, fifteen pins and a plate. I've broken my femur, both wrists, both ankles - my left ankle twice. My tibia. Tore my rotator cuff.

There is some delight in ale and wine And some in girls with ankles fine But my delight, yes always mine Is to dance with Jak O’ the Shadows We will toss the dice however they fall And snuggle the girls be they short or tall Then follow Lord Mat whenever he calls To dance with Jak O’ the Shadows.

but all I could think was in New York that kid would have been stuck in a straitjacket practically from birth and dangled over a tank full of Educational Consultants and Remedial Experts all snapping at his ankles for the next twenty years arguing about his Special Needs and getting paid plenty for it.

For a quarter of a century, I've been playing baseball for pay. It has been pretty good pay, most of the time. The work has been hard, but what of it? It's been risky. I've broken both my legs. I've sprained everything I've got between my ankles and my disposition. I've dislocated my joints and fractured my pride.

As I saw it, all my mother's life, my father held her down, like lead strapped to her ankles. She was buoyant by nature; she wanted to travel, go to the theater, go to museums. What he wanted was to lie on the couch with the Times over his face, so that death, when it came, wouldn't seem a significant change.

Almost the first thing you see after entering the Houdini exhibition at the Jewish Museum is a large-screen film of Harry Houdini hanging by his ankles upside-down from a tall building, high over a sea of men in fedoras, and thrashing his way out of a straitjacket.

Claire was struggling through last summer’s diary volume when Myrnin popped in through the portal, wearing a big floppy black hat and a kind of crazy/stylish pimp coat that covered him from neck to ankles, black leather gloves, and a black and silver walking stick with a dragon’s head on it. And, on his lapel was a button that said, If you can read this, thank a teacher.

The defects born of habit are innumerable. I see every child occupied in some way in disarranging and disfiguring his physique; some displace the ankles through the habit they have contracted of standing on one leg only and playing, as it were, with the other; placing it in a position which though disagreeable and strained, does not fatigue them, because the softness of their tendons and muscles lend themselves to all kinds of movement.

When a liver becomes cirrhotic, those are the common complications. We see that the patients have bleeding from their stomach and intestines. They have abdomens that become full of fluid. Their ankles swell with the same type of fluid, and they also can become confused and not themselves. Those are kind of the main things that we see when people get end-stage liver disease and have cirrhosis.

The Freudians describe the conscious as a small lit area, all white, and the unconscious as a great dark marsh full of monsters. In their view, the monsters reach up, grab you by the ankles, and try to drag you down.

Two stops after I got on, these two unbelievable short people got on, and the way they were looking at me, I could tell. They wanted to bite my ankles!

I wasn't a great skater and I needed my skates to be perfect - really tight around the ankles. But I couldn't break in new ones because my feet would hurt so much. I wore a size 9 shoe and a 6.5 skate - my foot was really crunched.

Tap dancers find it very difficult to do anything other than tap if that is all they have been trained in because, again, it's a whole different ballgame that you're constantly working on - bent legs, loose ankles - which you cannot afford to do when you're doing jumps or anything else.

I think I'm comfortable making myself, or my speaker, larger than life if I can then cut myself off at the ankles. The way, in "My Major Prize," the speaker does this drippy performance of sadness and poetry for some unnamed prize committee, only he lets us know that it's all a wry game.

As I grew up, I played in sandals. I played in flip-flops all the time back in the day. That's why I didn't really care about spraining my ankles. When I first started in the NBA, I loved low-cuts. I can play (in them), because I used to grow up playing in flip-flops all the time.

Some people have knees, ankles. It's always been my back. That's been one thing I've always had to be conscious about strengthening and being in rehab. Pretty much I've always rehabbed it.

Banks operate like a man who either wears his trousers round his chest, stifling breathing, as now, or round his ankles, exposing his assets. We want their trousers tied round their middle: steady lending growth; particularly to productive British business, especially small scale enterprise.

I wore the gold is symbolic of my African heritage. When my black ancestors was bought over here from Africa they were shackled by their neck, they wrist and they ankles in steel chains. I turned those steel chains into gold to symbolize the fight. I'm still a slave, only my price tag is higher.

The surface of the Earth is the shore of the cosmic ocean. From it we have learned most of what we know. Recently, we have waded a little out to sea, enough to dampen our toes or, at most, wet our ankles. The water seems inviting. The ocean calls.

I just turned 27 years old, and there are mornings where my knees and ankles really hurt. I hurt all over. I would hate to be me when I'm 35 years old. I'll be a basket case, but I will have a lot of memories.

Ama wipes her hands on her apron, looks up at our old roof with new eyes, and lifts the baby from his basket. She twirls him in the air, her skirts flying around her ankles the way the clouds swirl around the mountain cap--her laughter fresh and strange and musical to my ears.

It's not what I'd want for at my funeral. When I die, I just want them to plant me somewhere warm. And then when the pretty women walk over my grave I would grab their ankles, like in that movie.

Photographs are still being taken but aren't being shown. There's one of a skeleton bound at the wrists with pants still around its ankles; if it was a woman, she was likely raped; if it was a man, he was possibly castrated.

A runner needs not just to be skinny but - more specifically - to have skinny calves and ankles, because every extra pound carried on your extremities costs more than a pound carried on your torso. That's why shaving even a few ounces off a pair of running shoes can have a significant effect.

And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks of her dress in a strange bedroom-- feels the autumn dropping its silk and linen leaves about her ankles. The tawdry veined body emerges twisted upon itself like a winter wind.

Sure, the first light snowfall may be a chance to dance giddily, leaving squeaky footprints through the neighborhood, marking the runner's right to the domain. But later drubbings of snow merely complicate running. Snow turns to ice, to slush, to ice again. Tire ruts twist ankles. New snow hides the hazards.