Pavements Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
i-started-noticing-how-stained-pavements-are-in-london-the-pavements-in-beverly-hills-arent-used-in-london-theyre-used-for-everything-it-doesnt-matter-how-much-theyre-cleaned-the
on-pavements-bark-trees-i-have-found-whole-worlds-mark-tobey
people-think-that-i-popped-out-my-mothers-womb-singing-chasing-pavements-adele
we-are-animal-in-our-blood-in-our-skin-we-were-not-born-for-pavements-escalators-but-for-thunder-mud-jay-griffiths
we-are-only-lightly-covered-with-buttoned-cloth-beneath-these-pavements-are-shells-bones-silence-virginia-woolf
the-great-doctors-all-got-their-education-off-dirt-pavements-poverty-not-marble-floors-foundations
i-wouldnt-consider-retiring-to-india-there-are-too-many-people-its-difficult-walking-along-pavements-id-love-to-spend-two-three-months-year-there
music-is-my-love-to-me-acting-is-more-mercenary-i-dont-pound-pavements-for-roles-if-it-happens-it-happens-i-hate-that-auditioning-thing-david-johansen
all-our-institutions-rest-upon-business-without-it-we-should-not-have-schools-colleges-churches-parks-playgrounds-pavements-books-libraries-art-music-charles-gates
it-was-broiling-afternoon-midaugust-in-brinoe-everybody-who-was-anybody-had-long-ago-quit-its-burning-pavements-chilly-palaces-for-mountains-louis-bromfield
when-we-walked-streets-together-all-faces-seemed-to-smile-back-and-now-pavements-have-nothing-to-offer-and-all-faces-seem-to-need-slap-the-last-shadow-puppets
dreamers-dreams-may-be-pathfinders-but-they-may-be-mere-vagrants-of-those-who-depart-from-pavements-only-few-are-explorers-rest-are-mere-gilbert-ryle
there-can-be-no-doubt-that-society-rooted-in-soil-is-more-stable-than-one-rooted-in-pavements-aldo-leopold
data-is-fabric-modern-world-just-like-we-walk-down-pavements-we-trace-routes-through-data-build-knowledge-products-out-it-ben-goldacre
i-hear-lake-water-lapping-with-low-sounds-by-shore-while-i-stand-on-roadway-on-pavements-gray-i-hear-it-in-deep-hearts-core-william-butler-yeats
white-swan-cities-slumbering-in-thy-nest-white-phantom-city-whose-untrodden-streets-are-rivers-whose-pavements-are-shifting-shadows-palaces-henry-wadsworth-longfellow
and-i-went-to-new-york-died-for-10-years-i-walked-those-pavements-i-cant-think-new-york-without-feeling-uncomfortable-feeling-like-failure
From p. 40 of Signet Edition of Thomas Wolfe's _You Can't Go Home Again_ (1940): Some things will never change. Some things will always be the same. Lean down your ear upon the earth and listen. The voice of forest water in the night, a woman's laughter in the dark, the clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing stitch of midday in hot meadows, the delicate web of children's voices in bright air-these things will never change. The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the glory of the stars, the innocence of morning, the smell of the sea in harbors, the feathery blur and smoky buddings of young boughs, and something there that comes and goes and never can be captured, the thorn of spring, the sharp and tongueless cry-these things will always be the same. All things belonging to the earth will never change-the leaf, the blade, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose stiff arms clash and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the earth-all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come again upon the earth-these things will always be the same, for they come up from the earth that never changes, they go back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but it endures forever. The tarantula, the adder, and the asp will also never change. Pain and death will always be the same. But under the pavements trembling like a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a cry, under the waste of time, under the hoof of the beast above the broken bones of cities, there will be something growing like a flower, something bursting from the earth again, forever deathless, faithful, coming into life again like April.

Thomas Wolfe
from-p-40-signet-edition-thomas-wolfes-_you-cant-go-home-again_-1940-some-things-will-never-change-some-things-will-always-be-same-lean-down-your-ear-upon-earth-listen-the-voice-
I am an urchin, standing in the cold, elbowed aside by the glossy rich visitors in their fur coats and ostentatious jewellery, being fussed into the hotel by pompous-looking doormen. 'No problem. I'd better get home, actually Mr - Gustav. A drink is very tempting, but maybe not such a good idea after all.' I pat my pockets. 'And I'm skint.' 'Pavements not paved with gold yet, eh?' He moves on along the facade of the grand hotel to the corner, and waits. He's staring not back at me but down St James Street. I wage a little war with myself. He's a stranger, remember. The newspaper headlines, exaggerated by the time they reach the office of Jake's local rag: Country girl from the sticks raped and murdered in London by suave conman. Even Poppy would be wagging her metaphorical finger at me by now. Blaming herself for not being there, looking out for me. But we're out in public here. Lots of people around us. He's charming. He's incredibly attractive. He's got a lovely deep, well spoken voice. And he's an entrepreneur who must be bloody rich if he owns more than one house. What the hell else am I going to do with myself when everyone else is out having fun? One thing I won't tell him is that my pockets might be empty, but my bank account is full. 'One drink. Then I must get back.' He doesn't answer or protest, but with a courtly bow he crooks his elbow and escorts me down St James. We turn right and into the far more subtle splendour of Dukes Hotel. 'Dress code?' I ask nervously, wiping my feet obediently on the huge but welcoming doormat and drifting ahead of him into the smart interior where domed and glassed corridors lead here and there. The foyer smells of mulled wine and candles and entices you to succumb to its perfumed embrace.

Primula Bond
i-am-urchin-standing-in-cold-elbowed-aside-by-glossy-rich-visitors-in-their-fur-coats-ostentatious-jewellery-being-fussed-into-hotel-by-pompouslooking-doormen-no-problem-id-bette
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