Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.
Plagiarism is one of the great academic sins. It has the power to destroy a scholar or writer and turn a lifetime’s work to dust.
The soul, which is spirit, can not dwell in dust; it is carried along to dwell in the blood.
Trump is a dust storm of lies and diversions with the bellows of a bully and the greasy ethics of a street-corner hustler.
Men think highly of those who rise rapidly in the world; whereas nothing rises quicker than dust, straw, and feathers.
Late 19th-century America was basically a plutocratic enterprise while people toiled in mines and died of coal dust poisoning.
We are borrowing money from future generations. We are borrowing the carbon impact, the resource impact from future generations to get stuff cheap now. We have swept the dirt and dust from our society under the carpet – but this carpet is on other side of the planet.
Because there is no cosmic point to the life that each of us perceives on this distant bit of dust at the galaxy’s edge… there is all the more reason for us to maintain in proper balance what we have here. Because there is nothing else. No thing. This is it. And quite enough, all in all.
I would certainly never consider myself a Renaissance Man; I’m not fit to look at the dust from the chariot wheels of many of those who have gone before me.
According to an ancient Sardinian legend, the bodies of those who are born on Christmas Eve will never dissolve into dust but are preserved until the end of time.
I’m not a prophet, but I always thought it was natural for dictatorships to fall. I remember in 1989, two months before the fall of the Berlin Wall, had you said it was going to happen no one would have believed you. The system seemed powerful and unbreakable. Suddenly overnight it blew away like dust.
You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lines. You may trod me in the very dirt, but still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Americans are worried about pollution – oil trains running through their towns, fracking in their neighborhoods, coal dust in their air. They’re worried about what the future will look like for their children if carbon pollution continues unchecked.
I never wanted to be a public figure. I feel that I always have to dampen down people’s expectations. They expect me to be an oracle, wave a magic wand, sprinkle some slow, sparkly dust on them, to make everything all right.
I don’t do a lot of editing post-shoot, but I use Lightroom to play with contrast and texture and to remove dust.
Between the age of 30 and going fishing, none of my friendships had any of that magic dust of when you were young. There was a sort of functionality to them, just keeping in touch. ‘Oh, I should invite so and so, I haven’t seen them for ages.
Tools can rule men sooner than they expect; the plow makes man the lord of the garden but also the refugee from the dust bowl.
I’m allergic to molds, cigarette smoke, smog and dust and animals’ hair.
Obviously if you’re Coppola going into ‘Apocalypse Now’ off the back of the two ‘Godfathers,’ you’re in a much better position than coming off the back of something like ‘Dust Devil,’ which had scarcely been released, and was pretty much lying around in film cans in different places.
You can’t let fear paralyze you. The worse that can happen is you fail, but guess what: You get up and try again. Feel that pain, get over it, get up, dust yourself off and keep it moving.
In ‘Hokey Pokey,’ bikes are kind of more than bikes alone. They become mustangs; they become creatures that rip up the dust as they gallop across the Great Plains.
You either make dust or eat dust.
We spend to pretend that we’re upper class. And when the dust clears – when bankruptcy hits or a family member bails us out of our stupidity – there’s nothing left over. Nothing for the kids’ college tuition, no investment to grow our wealth, no rainy-day fund if someone loses her job.
At the height of the Enron mania, the company’s market value was $65 billion. Once the dust cleared, the final value was $0.
Titles are important; I have them before I have books that belong to them. I have last chapters in my mind before I see first chapters, too. I usually begin with endings, with a sense of aftermath, of dust settling, of epilogue.
There is one God, and He made both Indians and white men. We were all made out of the dust of the earth.
Public life has become so gladiatorial. Every day, another reputation bites the dust.
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
When people come to me and tell me I was terrific in this or that, I do not want to fall flat on my face the next time. But, tough, I have fallen flat before. You just get up and dust yourself off.
Write injuries in dust, benefits in marble.
Nothing is written in stone. So don’t prepare yourself for a long and lucrative career. You might die tomorrow. Your gold holdings might become dust. Just make the music you want to make now and enjoy it.
When someone beats a rug, the blows are not against the rug, but against the dust in it.
Is it sin, which makes the worm a chrysalis, and the chrysalis a butterfly, and the butterfly dust?
Your idol is shattered in the dust to prove that God’s dust is greater than your idol.
Your hands are not made to type out memos. Or put paper through fax machines. Or hold a phone up while you talk to people you dislike. One hundred years from now, your hands will rot like dust in your grave. You have to make wonderful use of those hands now. Kiss your hands so they can make magic.
First our pleasures die – and then our hopes, and then our fears – and when these are dead, the debt is due dust claims dust – and we die too.
It appears to me impossible that I should cease to exist, or that this active, restless spirit, equally alive to joy and sorrow, should be only organized dust.
You have a core competency, something you’re better at than I’ll ever be, and that’s your magic – your pixie dust.
People are fascinating. They’re so unique and I think what’s more fascinating is the reason behind the physical characteristic, the enigma, that’s where the gold dust is.
Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.
I am a survivor and not a victim. Life isn’t perfect. When you get a knock, you have to get up, dust yourself down and get on with it.
Of all the possessions of this life fame is the noblest; when the body has sunk into the dust the great name still lives.
Awards become corroded, friends gather no dust.
When I asked my mother why crowds shouted my name and said ‘We love you,’ she would dust it off by saying, ‘Your work makes them happy.’ She never let it go to my head.
‘Dust Devil,’ I’ve never really seen with an American audience, so I’m looking forward to that experience.
Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.
I grew up in the African bush in Malawi, Tanzania and Uganda, which is my thing. I love the smell of the dust as you bump along in a Land-Rover. I go back there often.
We have stars, planets and galaxies in space. There’s lots of nothingness out there, but it’s really not. There’s gas, dust and other bits of matter floating around emptier’ areas of the universe, but you can’t see it very easily.
You never know if you’re a writer. You can’t trust it. If you woke up and said, ‘I’m a writer,’ it would be gone. You wouldn’t see anything for miles – even the dust would be running away.
Is it sin, which makes the worm a chrysalis, and the chrysalis a butterfly, and the butterfly dust?
The funny thing about New York City is that if you hide from her, she’s just gonna say, ‘Whatever, kid!’ and leave you in the dust.
American Ballet Theatre’s rehearsal studios are at 890 Broadway, an old building where exposed pipes clank and hiss in uneven accompaniment to piano music. The high ceilings wear a toupee of dust. The wall paint peels like a newbie ballerina’s toes.
Avoid the world, it’s just a lot of dust and drag and means nothing in the end.
Romance is the glamour which turns the dust of everyday life into a golden haze.
My own great-grandfather suffered so much from asthma that he had to walk a mile or two behind the covered wagons crossing the plains to avoid the dust. However, he always arrived at his destination and did his share of the work.
Part of recovery is relapse. I dust myself off and move forward again.
There is something wonderful about the way you glaze a fruit cake, nonchalantly drop some orange on as a topping, dust the sugar on top of a sponge cake or fan the apples on a tart.
When I told people in Dubai that I am going to leave my job here and head to Mumbai, they were convinced that I will not survive in the dust, grime, pollution.
What ye have been ye still shall be, When we are dust the dust among, O yellow flowers!
The ease and pleasure of a long marriage is like gold dust. You feel fed and sustained and that you’re intimately known.
We mainly shot ‘Cartel Land’ with the Canon C300. The camera was dropped, smashed, hit by guns, in dust storms, torrential rain, and it never, ever failed.
Traveling, you realize that differences are lost: each city takes to resembling all cities, places exchange their form, order, distances, a shapeless dust cloud invades the continents.
