Barefoot And Blank Quotes

Routine is the one thing the can get you killed. It tells the enemy where you're going and when you're going to be there. ~ Anthony Horowitz

One night when I got in from work a bit late, 'cause it was really nice weather and everyone wants to take the punts out when it's sunny, I found Larry just sitting on the sofa staring at a blank TV screen. At first I thought maybe he'd forgotten to turn it on, but then I thought, no, Larry's not stupid. He'd have noticed. ~ J.L. Merrow

She looked at me then everything emptied out of her eyes and they looked like the eyes in statues blank and unseeing and serene put ~ William Faulkner

To Severine, his expression was blank. Spotless and clean. She wondered what it'd be like to create a mess in his eyes, to leave an imprint. ~ Calia Read

Not long ago Aveline got a call from the county sheriff for Index, Washington. Local fishermen found a drifter by the name of Moss Ballot dead on the banks of the Skykomish River. There were no signs of struggle, only whiskey in his blood and traces of river in his lungs, likely from having fallen face-first and taken his last breaths underwater. He'd set up camp in the trees under a tarp. It seemed he'd been there for a while, living off fish and canned beans. There wasn't much worth keeping, according to the sheriff. He did say that inside the wax duffel bag there was a diary, the one I'd given to him, it turns out. Inside it were written the words *For my children Wes and Annaclaire in care of Aveline Blue, Burden Falls, Montana*. There was one sentence, the start of a story never written but told nonetheless: *I lose everything*. The rest of the pages were blank. ~ Susan Bernhard

Here is the solitude from which you are absent.
It is raining. The sea wind is hunting stray gulls.
The water walks barefoot in the wet streets. From that tree the leaves complain as though they were sick.
White bee, even when you are gone, you live in my soul. You live again in time, slender and silent.
Ah, you who are silent. ~ Pablo Neruda

The moment it is in touch with the earth, the body recognizes it. That is why spiritual people in India walked barefoot and always sat upon the ground in a posture that allows for maximum area of contact. In this way, the body is experientially reminded that it is just a part of this earth. Never should the body forget what it is. If it forgets, it will start making fanciful demands; if you constantly remind it, then it knows its place. ~ Jaggi Vasudev

There's a little bit of madness
In their love
They are pure like blank white paper
They are so lost but
In the right direction

They are beautiful
They are precious and rare
And so
The stars aligned
To bring them together ~ Jyoti Patel

The company that consistently makes and implements decisions rapidly gains a tremendous, often decisive, competitive advantage. ~ Steve Blank

For a Man cannot believe a Miracle without relying upon Sense, nor Transubstantiation without renouncing it. So that never were any two things so ill coupled together as the Doctrine of Christianity and that of Transubstantiation, because they draw several ways, and are ready to strangle one another: For the main Evidence of the Christian Doctrine, which is Miracles, is resolved into the certainty of Sense, but this Evidence is clear and point blank against Transubstantiation. ~ John Tillotson

Other big questions tackled by ancient cultures are at least as radical. What is real? Is there more to reality than meets the eye? Yes! was Plato's answer over two millennia ago. In his famous cave analogy, he likened us to people who'd lived their entire lives shacked ina a cave, facing a blank wall, watching the shadows cast by things passing behind them, and eventually coming to mistakenly believe that these shadows were the full reality. Plato argued that what we humans call our everyday reality is similarly just a limited and distorted representation of the true reality, and that we must free ourselves from our mental shackles to comprehending it. ~ Max Tegmark

sun caught the edge of his belt buckle, projecting a flash that shimmered across the desert plain. A shrill whistle sounded, and as I stepped to the right I caught sight of his shadow spilling a whole other set of sophisms from an entirely different angle. - I been here before, haven't I? He just sat there staring out at the plain. Son of a bitch, I thought. He's ignoring me. - Hey, I said, I'm not the dead, not a shade passing. I'm flesh and blood here. He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and started writing. - You got to at least look at me, I said. After all, it is my dream. I drew closer. Close enough to see what he was writing. He had his notebook open to a blank page and three words suddenly materialized. Nope, it's mine. - Well, I'll be damned, I murmured. I ~ Patti Smith

when you got right down to the place where the cheese binds, there was no such thing as marriage, no such thing as union, that each soul stood alone and ultimately defied rationality. That was the mystery. And no matter how well you thought you knew your partner, you occasionally ran into blank walls or fell into pits. And sometimes (rarely, thank God) you ran into a full-fledged pocket of alien strangeness, something like the clear-air turbulence that can buffet an airliner for no reason at all. An attitude or belief which you had never suspected, one so peculiar (at least to you) that it seemed nearly psychotic. And then you trod lightly, if you valued your marriage and your peace of mind; you tried to remember that anger at such a discovery was the province of fools who really believed it was possible for one mind to know another. ~ Stephen King

Go walk barefoot on the grass
Really flow, just let it pass...
And dance in the wind,
So do it in your mind,
Such glory it is that the spirit lasts! ~ Ana Claudia Antunes

To the barefoot man, happiness is a pair of shoes. To the man with old shoes, it's a pair of new shoes. To the man with new shoes, it's stylish shoes. And of course, the fellow with no feet would be happy to be barefoot. Measure your life by what you have not by what you don't. ~ Michael Josephson

Joanie and I weren't able to Sungaze really, it was too overcast.
I did explain it to her though and we did a barefoot walkabout, so she has all the ideas. It only takes about 5 mins to explain it, it's so simple and easy.
It's mainly in the doing. Like most things I suppose.
I was able to walk barefoot in the bright Sun earlier in the day. The Sun was far too bright to look at 4 p.m., but I absorbed it through my Crown and Third Eye, as I do when I try to start Sungazing a little too early during the Sunset and I have to wait a few mins. ~ Sienna McQuillen

Don't leave your life a blank page. Make each word count and leave behind something worth reading. ~ Mae East

The best thing the universe ever gave us is that we'll all be forgotten. [...] I kinda like the idea. That when we die, despite any pain or fear or embarrassment we experienced during our lives, despite any heartbreak or grief, we get to be dispersed back into nothingness. It makes me feel brave, knowing I'll get a blank slate at the end. You get a brief glimmer of consciousness to do with what you will and then it's given back to the universe again. I'm not religious, but even I can appreciate that that's redemption, on the grandest scale. Oblivion isn't scary; it's the closest thing to genuine absolution of sin that I can imagine. ~ Krystal Sutherland

The idea is that readers don't come blank to books. Consciously and not, we bring all the biases that come with our nationality, gender, race, class, age. They you layer onto that the status of our health, employment, relationships, not to mention our particular relationship to each book--who gave it to us, where we read it, what books we've already read--and as my professor put it, 'That massive array of spices has as much to do with the flavor of the soup as whatever the cook intended ~ Kelly Corrigan

Harry had felt the gnawing ache for alcohol from the moment he woke up that morning. First as an instinctive physical craving, then as a panic-stricken fear because he had put a distance between himself and his medicine by not taking his hip flask or any money with him to work. Now the ache was entering a new phase in which it was both a wholly physical pain and a feeling of blank terror that he would be torn to pieces. The enemy below was pulling and tugging at the chains, the dogs were snarling up at him from the pit, somewhere in his stomach beneath his heart. God, how he hated them. He hated them as much as they hated him. ~ Jo Nesbo

Everyday we just copy&paste ourselves from the previous day instead of creating a new blank page and be something different and original. ~ Marcelo Goianira

There's only one way to be a pilot, and that is to get this entire river by heart. You have to know it just like A B C.' That was a dismal revelation to me; for my memory was never loaded with anything but blank cartridges. ~ Mark Twain

My own prescription for health is less paperwork and more running barefoot through the grass. ~ Leslie Grimutter

A theatre is not a blank page for editorial, it is not a soapbox or a Tannoy system: it is a conscience that wakes with what is happening in the space, and wakes further still in response to what people are making of it. ~ Andrew O'Hagan

My eyes went blank, and I stared off, and the music started. It was raining, and the sun was shining at the same time, and there were these big bay windows, and there was the blue in the sky, and the sun on the trees, and it was drizzling. ~ Al Jarreau

For Hitschmann and Bergler, 'frigidity' had a single criterion: 'absence of the vaginal orgasm.' The standard was unqualified and absolute. A woman who did not enjoy intercourse: frigid. Women who derived sexual pleasure from acts other than intecourse were frigid too. Nothing else mattered, only whether a woman had an orgasm because a man's penis was inside her vagina. Sexually agressive women were labeled 'frigid' because of the association between masculinity and aggressiveness. Womanhood that was not passive was not properly womanly. "Frigidity," as Jane Gerhardt points out, "thus became a label and a diagnosis that defined how much sexual desire a woman must have and in what kinds of sexual behavior she must engage to be 'healthy'. ~ Hanne Blank

We were to write a short essay on one of the works we read in the course and relate it to our lives. I chose the "Allegory of the Cave" in Plato's Republic. I compared my childhood of growing up in a family of migrant workers with the prisoners who were in a dark cave chained to the floor and facing a blank wall. I wrote that, like the captives, my family and other migrant workers were shackled to the fields day after day, seven days a week, week after week, being paid very little and living in tents or old garages that had dirt floors, no indoor plumbing, no electricity. I described how the daily struggle to simply put food on our tables kept us from breaking the shackles, from turning our lives around. I explained that faith and hope for a better life kept us going. I identified with the prisoner who managed to escape and with his sense of obligation to return to the cave and help others break free. ~ Francisco Jimenez

And [Asimov]'ll sign anything, hardbacks, softbacks, other people's books, scraps of paper. Inevitably someone handed him a blank check on the occasion when I was there, and he signed that without as much as a waver to his smile - except that he signed: 'Harlan Ellison. ~ Isaac Asimov

We now know that something between 85 and 90 percent of most software product features are unwanted and unneeded by customers. That is an enourmous ammount of waste of time and money that ends up on the floor. ~ Steve Blank

Beyond the late Fifties everything faded. When there were no external records that you could refer to, even the outline of your own life lost its sharpness. You remembered huge events which had quite probably not happened, you remembered the details of incidents without being able to recapture their atmosphere, and there were long blank periods to which you could assign nothing. Everything had been different then. ~ George Orwell

And then he lifted his eyes from the chair to his bed. If this was his imagination, his imagination was glorious. Margaret lay on his coverlet, stretched out full length. She still wore a corset and petticoats, but they'd been hiked up so that he could see where her garters tied at the knees. She crooked one finger at him and smiled.

"Margaret. What are you doing here?"

"I," she said, "have been procuring my future."

His mind went blank. He didn't know how to take it. She'd decided to have him, after all. She'd realized she didn't need him, not one bit. His head pounded. His heart swelled in a mix of hope and despair.

"I want you."

Hope. Hope. It was all hope. He took a careful step towards her.

"Wait. There's a condition."

"You know," Ash said, his throat closing, "that if you are half-naked on my bed, all conditions will be met. Instantly."

"Ah, but this is one of the conditions I did not deliver to Lord Lacy-Follett earlier today."

If he'd been overwhelmed by her appearance before, he was stunned now. "You talked to Lacy-Follett? You cannot be serious."

"Oh, but I am. I had to renegotiate, after I'd heard what you had done. I had been so blinded by my loyalty to my brothers that I could not see that I owed loyalty to you, as well. I was wrong. I love you, Ash."

He swallowed.

She smiled up at him. "I love that you make me feel as if I'm the onl ~ Courtney Milan

They say that life is just a blank chain, and precious moments are the beads we hang off it to make it beautiful. ~ Holly Smale

All these years I've been ... I'm ... ' He still seemed to be choking. 'I'm ... an orphan. I'm ... I'm alone. I'm ... I'm ... I'm ... free.' He pushed himself up on one elbow, staring at his hands as if for the first time they had become his own. 'I can ... I can do anything. I can leave Jealousy! I can break my spectacles and run off barefoot to become a ... a ... cobbler! I can ... I can marry my housekeeper! Do I have a housekeeper? I never had time to notice! But now I can get a housekeeper! And marry her! ~ Frances Hardinge

I missed all the people and places I didn't know if I would ever see again – my grandparents and their cute little house at Basin Head, where we used to visit the beach everyday and I would run barefoot over the singing sands and swim in the impossibly enormous ocean. ~ Rachael Arsenault

Lana was with me," I rushed. "I mean… I went with her. She had to go because her parents were there and - "

I was rambling and I knew it. Yet it was the blank expression on Lachlan's face that made me stop talking. His eyebrows were pinched together. Eyes scrunched as if he was trying to peer very carefully at me.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in a low voice.

I stared at him miserably; it was all I could do.

"It's me…" He pushed away part of his jacket and gripped the material of his shirt. "Lachlan. ~ Calia Read

[L]et us not overlook the further great fact, that not only does science underlie sculpture, painting, music, poetry, but that science is itself poetic. The current opinion that science and poetry are opposed is a delusion. ... On the contrary science opens up realms of poetry where to the unscientific all is a blank. Those engaged in scientific researches constantly show us that they realize not less vividly, but more vividly, than others, the poetry of their subjects. Whoever will dip into Hugh Miller's works on geology, or read Mr. Lewes's "Seaside Studies," will perceive that science excites poetry rather than extinguishes it. And whoever will contemplate the life of Goethe will see that the poet and the man of science can co-exist in equal activity. Is it not, indeed, an absurd and almost a sacrilegious belief that the more a man studies Nature the less he reveres it? Think you that a drop of water, which to the vulgar eye is but a drop of water, loses anything in the eye of the physicist who knows that its elements are held together by a force which, if suddenly liberated, would produce a flash of lightning? Think you that what is carelessly looked upon by the uninitiated as a mere snow-flake, does not suggest higher associations to one who has seen through a microscope the wondrously varied and elegant forms of snow-crystals? Think you that the rounded rock marked with parallel scratches calls up as much poetry in an ignorant mind as in the mind of a geologist, who kno ~ Herbert Spencer