Under the general name of Commodity, I rank all those advantages which our senses owe to nature. This, of course, is a benefit which is temporary and mediate, not ultimate, like its service to the soul. Yet although low, it is perfect in its kind, and is the only use of nature which all men apprehend. The misery of man appears like childish petulance, when we explore the steady and prodigal provision that has been made for his support and delight on this green ball which floats him through the heavens. What angels invented these splendid ornaments, these rich conveniences, this ocean of air above, this ocean of water beneath, this firmament of earth between? this zodiac of lights, this tent of dropping clouds, this striped coat of climates, this fourfold year? Beasts, fire, water, stones, and corn serve him. The field is at once his floor, his work-yard, his play-ground, his garden, and his bed.
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Volunteers Many will be shocked to find, When the day of judgement nears, That there's a special place in Heaven Set aside for volunteers. Furnished with big recliners, Satin Couches and footstools, Where ther are no committee chairmen, Nor yard sale or rest area coffee to serve. No library duty or bulletin assembly, There will be nothing to print and staple. Not one thing to fold and mail, Telephone lists will be outlawed. But a finger snap will bring Cool drinks and gourmet dinners And rare treats fit for a king. You ask, Who'll serve these privileged few And work for all the're worth? Why, all those who reaped the benifits, And not once volunteered on Earth.
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I've stayed in the front yard all my life. I want a peek at the back...
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Being born in a duck yard does not matter, if only you are hatched from a swan's egg.
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My dad taught me to switch-hit. He and my grandfather, who was left-handed, pitched to me everyday after school in the back yard. I batted lefty against my dad and righty against my granddad.
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If you let a bully come in your front yard, he'll be on your porch the next day and the day after that he'll rape your wife in your own bed.
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Man is a peculiar creature. He spends a fortune making his home insect-proof and air-conditioned, and then eats in the yard.
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Do not quit! Hundreds of times I have watched people throw in the towel at the one-yard line while someone else comes along and makes a fortune by just going that extra yard.
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If you let a bully come in your front yard, he'll be on your porch the next day and the day after that he'll rape your wife in your own bed. (On appeasement)
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Moonlight falls on the gravestone like death the gravestone is mine... a crow caws so close to my ear, i taste a bitter taste and it smells like death i see nothing but utter stillness i can see my fear run through the yard i see the ghost of curt cobain run through the yard and i chase after him there is a taste of sweet dew on my tongue in my bedroom there are posters on the wall i read a note over and over again and the words 'sup loser' haunt me... the giants peer over the midgets intimidating he loves everything about me, why does he had me so? the dull pencil of life tried to write on the soul and failed. i am as happy as a dull face in the dark my eyes go from ice blue to pitch black in the blink of an eye Lydia is dead in her mind. in the next months i'll walk through in a daze the hazy fog echoes as she lives for death she dies everyday and lives for tomorow elle amour mort mais elles deteste vie her pen writes on the pages of her heart a sweet song she will end the wait of life with the death of spirits.
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Opiate. An unlocked door in the prison of Identity. It leads into the jail yard.
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Inch by inch life's a cinch, yard by yard life is hard.
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Visit the Navy-Yard, and behold a marine, such a man as an American government can make, or such as it can make a man with its black arts -- a mere shadow and reminiscence of humanity, a man laid out alive and standing, and already, as one may say, buried under arms with funeral accompaniments.
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The stars which shone over Babylon and the stable in Bethlehem still shine as brightly over the Empire State Building and your front yard today. They perform their cycles with the same mathematical precision, and they will continue to affect each thing on earth, including man, as long as the earth exists.
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You can drop a mouse down a thousand-yard mine shaft and, on arriving at the bottom, it gets a slight shock and walks away. A rat would probably be killed, though it can fall safely from the eleventh story of a building, a man is broken, a horse splashes.
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It's a little different what you are doing in practice and when you are in a ballgame and want to make an extra yard and you get a little bit careless with the football. That should come with experience.
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Metric is definitely communist. One monetary system, one language, one weight and measurement system, one world - all communist! We know the West was won by the inch, foot, yard, and mile.
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Finishing a book is just like you took a child out in the back yard and shot it.
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Most people give up just when they're about to achieve success. They quit on the one yard line. They give up at the last minute of the game one foot from a winning touchdown.
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A very dirty little fellow came in from playing in the yard and asked his mother, 'Who am I?' Ready to play the game she said, 'I don't know! Who are you?' 'WOW!' cried the child. 'Mrs. Johnson was right! She said I was so dirty, my own mother wouldn't recognize me!'
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Talking is a hydrant in the yard and writing is a faucet upstairs in the house. Opening the first takes the pressure off the second.
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If the grass is greener in the other fellow's yard - let him worry about cutting it.
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When one of these flashbacks was reported to me by a conscious patient, I was incredulous. For example, when a mother told me she was suddenly aware, as my electrode touched the cortex, of being in the kitchen listening to the voice of her little boy who was playing outside in the yard.
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'Please remember the hundreds of tiny empty stomachs in our communities. Winter is a tough time for birds and other small creatures as food can become buried beneath snow or frozen ground. Scatter seeds in your yard, nearby parks.'
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My house is made out of balsa wood, so when I want to scare the neighborhood kids I lift it over my head and tell them to get out of my yard or I'll throw it at them.
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[6:05 p.m.: The New Orleans Saints beat the Carolina Panthers for their deluged city and the displaced victims of the Gulf Coast region, getting two touchdowns from Deuce McAllister and a 47-yard field goal from John Carney with 3 seconds left in a 23-20 season-opening win.] In the back of our minds, we know we have to give them one tiny bit of hope, ... We have complete faith in what we are doing because every time we go out there, it is our job to give them hope that every day will be a better day.
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I like going to a school yard and watching all the little kids run and scream on the school grounds. Of course they don't know that I'm using blanks.
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Keep a fair-sized cemetery in your back yard, in which to bury the faults of your friends.
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Marry an outdoors woman. Then if you throw her out into the yard on a cold night, she can still survive.
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That's my role. Third-and-1, I'm licking my chops because that is my opportunity to come in and make an impact in the game. So when they called my number, I knew I had to get that yard. I was able to do that. I feel really proud to get those tough yards.
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