#air

A professional player is smarter than a college man. He uses his noodle. He knows what to do and when to do it. He rarely goes up in the air as is the case with most of our college players when they get in a tight place. ↗

— Red Grange

#case #college #get #goes #his

There would be nights when I would wake up and couldn't get back to sleep. So I would go downstairs and write. The staff had a pool going on how many pages of typing I would bring in here in the morning. ↗

— Harold H. Greene

#bring #downstairs #get #go #going

Waste brings woe, and sorrow hates despair. ↗

— Robert Greene

#despair #hates #sorrow #waste #woe

The trick with computers I think, is to approach old and new things with the same reverence as you would like your favourite chair and not be seduced by the constant innovation otherwise you never do anything. ↗

— Colin Greenwood

#approach #chair #computers #constant #favourite

I'm an Air force Brat and I've lived all over the world and this country and there were people in my community who were gay - nurses, hairdressers, designers - people who just had a different way about themselves. ↗

— Pam Grier

#air #air force #brat #community #country

If I never saw another airport again, I'd be happy! ↗

— Emm Gryner

#airport #another #be happy #happy #i

We hope and we've made clear that the forces need to come out. It needs to be full and complete withdrawal. Our position is it needs to be done as soon as possible so that the elections can be free, fair and free of outside influence. ↗

— Stephen Hadley

#come #complete #done #elections #fair

This generation should entertain this generation. It's only fair. When I was a kid, I mowed the lawn. Now, somebody else's kid can mow the lawn. ↗

— Tom T. Hall

#entertain #fair #generation #i #kid

There can be no intelligent control of the lead danger in industry unless it is based on the principle of keeping the air clear from dust and fumes. ↗

— Alice Hamilton

#based #clear #control #danger #dust

When you enter the woods of a fairy tale and it is night, the trees tower on either side of the path. They loom large because everything in the world of fairy tales is blown out of proportion. If the owl shouts, the otherwise deathly silence magnifies its call. The tasks you are given to do (by the witch, by the stepmother, by the wise old woman) are insurmountable - pull a single hair from the crescent moon bear's throat; separate a bowl's worth of poppy seeds from a pile of dirt. The forest seems endless. But when you do reach the daylight, triumphantly carrying the particular hair or having outwitted the wolf; when the owl is once again a shy bird and the trees only a lush canopy filtering the sun, the world is forever changed for your having seen it otherwise. From now on, when you come upon darkness, you'll know it has dimension. You'll know how closely poppy seeds and dirt resemble each other. The forest will be just another story that has absorbed you, taken you through its paces, and cast you out again to your home with its rattling windows and empty refrigerator - to your meager livelihood, which demands, inevitably, that you write about it. ↗

— Elizabeth J. Andrew

#story #writing #change