I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not. They are strangers at their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood or the populous streets in which they have played, remain but a place of passage. They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever knows. Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves. Perhaps some deep-rooted atavism urges the wanderer back to lands which his ancestors left in the dim beginnings of history. Sometimes a man hits upon a place to which he mysteriously feels that he belongs. Here is the home he sought, and he will settle amid scenes that he has never seen before, among men he has never known, as though they were familiar to him from his birth. Here at last he finds rest.
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When Apollo Mission Astronaut Neil Armstrong first walked on the moon, he not only gave his famous one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind statement but followed it by several remarks, usual com traffic between him, the other astronauts and Mission Control. Just before he re-entered the lander, however, he made the enigmatic remark; 'Good luck Mr. Gorsky.'
Many people at NASA thought it was a casual remark concerning some rival Soviet Cosmonaut. However, upon checking, there was no Mr. Gorsky in either the Russian or American space programs. Over the years many people questioned Armstrong as to what the Good luck Mr. Gorsky statement meant, but Armstrong always just smiled.
Just last year, (on 5 July 1995 in Tampa Bay, FL) while answering questions following a speech, a reporter brought up the 26-year-old question to Armstrong. This time he finally responded. Mr. Gorsky had finally died and so Neil Armstrong felt he could answer the question.
When he was a kid, he was playing baseball with a friend in the backyard. His friend hits a fly ball which landed in the front of his neighbors bedroom windows. His neighbors were Mr. And Mrs. Gorsky.
As he leaned down to pick up the ball, young Armstrong heard Mrs. Gorsky shouting at Mr. Gorsky. 'Oral sex! You want oral sex?! You'll get oral sex when the kid next door walks on the moon!'
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One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.
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Why shouldn't I work for the NSA? That's a tough one. But I'll take a shot. Say I'm workin' at the NSA and somebody puts a code on my desk, somethin' no one else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it and I'm real happy with myself cause I did my job well, but maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East and once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels are hiding, fifteen hundred people I never met, never had no problem with get killed.
Now the politicains are sayin' 'Oh send in the marines to secure the area, cause they don't give a shit, won't be their kid over there gettin' shot just like it wasn't them when their number got called cause they were all pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southy over there takin' shrapnel in the ass. He comes back to find that the plant he used to work at, got exported to the country he just got back from, and the guy that put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job cause he'll work for 15 cents a day and no bathroom breaks.
Meanwhile, he realises the only reason he was over there in the first place was so that we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price, and ofcourse the oil companies use a little skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices, a cute little ancilliary benefit for them, but it ain't helpin' my buddy at 2.50 a gallon. Their takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, of course maybe they even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martini's and fuckin' play slolum with the icebergs. It ain't to long til he hits one, spills the oil, and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic... so now my buddy's out of work, he can't afford to drive, so he's walkin' to the fuckin' job interviews which sucks cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him cronic hemroids and meanwhile, he's starvin' cause everytime he tries to get a bite to eat the only blue plate special their serving is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State....
so what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure fuck it, while Im at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe, and join the National Guard. I could be elected President.
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Life begins to happen. My hoppped up husband drops his home disputes, and hits the streets to cruise for prostitutes,
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And the snow falls down melts before it even hits the ground. And I'm standing here listening to the sound of your hand washing back and forth across my filthy heart. And i don't know if I should say 'I'm sorry' or 'thank you'. I try to speak but the tears choke the words and I think I finally know what they mean when they talk about joy.
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A man in a bookstore buys a book on loneliness and every woman in the store hits on him. A woman buys a book on loneliness and the store clears out.
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LEONARD I've failed, Chris. I can't locate the white collective unconscious. CHRIS I wouldn't feel too bad about that. You know, western culture hasn't really carried the baton on folklore and mythology. The rise of Christianity put the kibosh on it--the gospel hits the number one best-seller list and everything else gets remaindered.
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When the opponent expand, I contract, When he contracts, I expand, And when there is an opportunity, I do not hit--it hits all by itself.
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Gratitude is a fickle thing, indeed. A person taking aim presses the weapon to his chest and cheek, but when he hits, he discards it with indi...
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Ability hits the mark where presumption overshoots and diffidence falls short.
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Just about everywhere we go a hurricane hits. You just can't believe it. What the hell is going on? It's like a black cloud. We may not be able to play in Baton Rouge if it hits like that.
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The only difference between a genius and one of common capacity is that the former anticipates and explores what the latter accidentally hits upon; but even the man of genius himself more frequently employs the advantages that chance presents him; it is the lapidary who gives value to the diamond which the peasant has dug up without knowing its value.
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I think he's been looking at his hands pre-pitch and where they are. He did the same thing last year. Out of the gate, you just lose your comfort zone for whatever reason. He'll get it. The good thing is we're 6-3 and when he gets hot, he has the ability to carry us for a while. It's not like he's some young kid and you hope he hits. It's just when is it going to be and how condensed is it going to be?
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When you've played this game for ten years and gone to bat seven-thousand times and gotten two-thousand hits do you know what that really means? It means you've gone zero for five-thousand.
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Torrey Pines is a great program, and we've been fortunate to have success against them. Today it was just a case of two good baseball teams battling it out. We got some timely hits and some outstanding pitching when we needed it. I thought we put forth a pretty good effort today.
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Ability is the art of getting credit for all the home runs somebody else hits.
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There's a deep fly ball... Winfield goes back, back... his head hits the wall ... it's rolling towards second base.
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It took me seventeen years to get 3,000 hits in baseball. I did it in one afternoon on the golf course.
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'Sarah'
My name is Sarah I am but three, My eyes are swollen I cannot see, I must be stupid I must be bad, What else could have made My daddy so mad? I wish I were better I wish I weren’t ugly They maybe mommy Would still want to hug me. I can’t speak at all I can’t do a wrong Or else I’m locked up All the day long. When I’m awake I’m all alone The house is dark My folks aren’t home When my mommy does come I’ll try and be nice, So maybe I’ll get just One whipping tonight. Don’t make a sound! I just heard a car My daddy is back From Charlie’s Bar. I heard him curse My name he calls I press myself Against the wall I try and hide From his evil eyes I’m so afraid now I’m starting to cry He finds me weeping He shouts ugly words, He says it’s my fault That he suffers at work. He slaps me and hits me And yells at me more, I finally get free And I run for the door. He’s already locked it And I start to bawl, He takes me and throws me Against the hard wall. I fall to the floor With my bones nearly broken, And my daddy continues With more bad words spoken. “I’m sorry!”, I scream But its much too late His face has been twisted Into unimaginable hate The hurt and the pain Again and again Oh please God, have mercy! Oh please let it end! And finally he stops And heads for the door, While I lay motionless Sprawled on the floor My name is Sarah And I am but three, Tonight my daddy Murdered me.
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What happens if a big asteroid hits Earth ? Judging from realistic simulations involving a sledge hammer and a common laboratory frog, we can assume it will be pretty bad.
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If you hit two keys on the typewriter, the one you don't want hits the paper.
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What happens if a big asteroid hits Earth? Judging from realistic simulations involving a sledge hammer and a common laboratory frog, we can assume it will be pretty bad
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Baseball is a lot like life. The line drives are caught, the squibbles go for base hits. It's an unfair game.
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Exhilaration is that feeling you get just after a great idea hits you, and just before you realize what's wrong with it.
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Winfield goes back to the wall. He hits his head on the wall and it rolls off! It's rolling all the way back to second base! This is a terrible thing for the Padres!
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A tree never hits an automobile except in self defense.
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I think when the full horror of being fifty hits you, you should stay home and have a good cry.
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He hits it long. His shoulders are impressively quick through the ball. That's where he's getting his power from. He's young and has great elasticity.
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If a tree falls in the forest and it hits a mime, does anyone care?
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