Every so often, we all gaze into the abyss. It’s a depressing fact of life that eventually the clock expires; eventually the sand in the hourglass runs out. It’s the leaving behind of everything that matters to us that hurts the most.
The house built on the sand may oftentimes be built higher, have more fair parapets and battlements, windows and ornaments, than that which is built upon the rock; yet all gifts and privileges equal not one grace.
I’d love to be a movie star. That’d be great. But I lost the looks awhile ago. They slipped right through my hands like sand in an hourglass.
To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour.
Writing on the beach is not what it’s cracked up to be. The sand blows, and you perspire, and the page gets all blotty and messed up, so I don’t do that anymore.
Success in sport is based on you thinking you are doing something to gain that edge, but if I wanted that little bit extra, I would go and run up sand dunes at Merthyr Mawr.
It’s just a job. Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up.
To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour.
The question is: how bad do things have to get before you will do something about it? Where is your line in the sand? If you don’t enforce the constitutional limitations on your government very soon, you are likely to find out what World War III will be like.
Sometimes you get politicians who dig their feet into the sand and aren’t willing to listen to another voice.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon.
Fundamentalists have their heads in the sand.
