Quotes & Sayings About Old Mills

I'm 47 years old. I couldn't compete with Beyonce. I'm not competing with anyone. I've already established myself as an artist. I've been in this business for 30 years. There's no reason for me to compete with anyone. — Stephanie Mills

Before I grad her book and mine, I go sit next to her on the organ bench and she gives me a big grandma hug - her special version, made from strong arms, old-fashioned perfume, and years of practice. The kind that makes you think you've won the best prize in the world. For love and safety, find your grandma. (76) — Kirstin Cronn-Mills

Pretty mountains, pretty river, bumpy but pleasant tar road ... old buildings, old people on a front porch ... strange how old, obsolete buildings and plants and mills, the technology of fifty and a hundred years ago, always seem to look so much better than the new stuff. — Robert M. Pirsig

At last, we arrived home. Indian Vale. The house my father had built that had become mine and that one day would be my daughter's, if she chose to stay in the area. She wouldn't, though. Why should she? The young people here moved somewhere else as fast as they could, and the old folks withered away and died. The factories vanished and the mines and mills sank into the ground, and in their places were erected fast food joints and furniture rental places and pawnshops. Sometimes I hear places like where I live called "Real America," and I know it rankles some folks - city folks, mostly - something awful, and I wish I could tell them it's only done out of politeness. That it's only people saying nice things about the dying. — Jason Miller

Every year, more than 120,000 new books are published in Britain, creating millions of volumes that will never be opened, let alone read. Many of these unread books are shredded into tiny fibre pellets called bitumen modifier, which can beused to make roads, holding the blacktop in place and doubling up as a sound absorber. A mile of motorway consumes about 50,000 books. The M6 Toll Road used up two-and-a-half million old Mills and Boon novels, romantic dreams crushed daily by juggernauts...Having your unread books vanish into the authorless anonymity of a road feels pleasingly melancholic, like having your ashes scattered in a vast ocean. — Joe Moran

At that moment, One Eight abruptly broke off his comment. I looked ahead to see the top of a dead tree looming in front of the ship. Jones jerked the cyclic stick back into his gut and hauled up the collective nearly out of the floor. The agile little OH-6 literally jumped over the top of the tree. We heard branches brush against the Plexiglas bubble and underside of the fuselage as we blew by. "Holy Shit!" I gasped. Jones calmly went on talking. "You've just got to be alert to anything that jumps out at you, including the tops of old, dead trees. — Hugh Mills

You know that African proverb 'When an old man dies, a library burns to the ground'? When Alice dies," Tom said, "it will be like a library burning. — Marja Mills

Everything that's old is new, and everything that's new is old. — Stephanie Mills

Adam searched out old friends from the neighborhood. They drank beer together in the garden of the Stag & Hounds, trading stories and trying their best to ignore the inescapable truth - that the ties that once bound them were loosening by the year and might soon be gone altogether. — Mark Mills

It's the job of old people to disapprove of everything young people do ... If we don't disapprove, then the young have nothing to fight against and the world will never change. It cannot move on. — Mark Mills

You're Professor Mills? The new one who teaches history?
As opposed to the old Professor Mills who preached overthrow of the government? — Josh Lanyon

It doesn't make any difference what religion you are, or how young you are or how old you are-if they go to these abortion mills and stand there and pray-that would make a lot of difference. — Norma McCorvey

I love theater. I started in theater when I was nine years old. — Stephanie Mills

I'm analog, Wall of Sound, old school to the core, and it's time to let my B side play. — Kirstin Cronn-Mills

Old soldiers never die - they're just thrown on the scrap heap! — Pat Mills

I love the smell of old books, Mandy sighed, inhaling deeply with the book pressed against her face. The yellow pages smelled of wood and paper mills and mothballs. — Rebecca McNutt

The old women in black at early Mass in winter
are a problem for him. He could tell by their eyes
they have seen Christ. They make the kernel
of his being and the clarity around it
seem meager, as though he needs girders
to hold up his unusable soul. But he chooses
against the Lord. He will not abandon his life.
Not his childhood, not the ninety-two bridges
across the two rivers of his youth. Nor the mills
along the banks where he became a young man
as he worked. The mills are eaten away, and eaten
again by the sun and its rusting. He needs them
even though they are gone, to measure against.
The silver is worn down to the brass underneath
and is the better for it. He will gauge
by the smell of concrete sidewalks after night rain.
He is like an old ferry dragged on to the shore,
a home in its smashed grandeur, with the giant beams
and joists. Like a wooden ocean out of control.
A beached heart. A cauldron of cooling melt. — Jack Gilbert

Uh, hello? Hello, hello! Uh, this is just to inform all employees, that due to current restrictions, the previously mentioned safe rooms, are being sealed at most locations. Including this one. Work crews will be here most of the day today, constructing a false wall over the old door bay. Nothing is being taken out before hand, so if you left anything inside, then it's your own fault. Management also requests, that this room not be mentioned to family, friends or insurance representatives. Thanks again, and remember to smile. You are the face of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. — Andrew Mills

There is more, but James has ceased to listen. In the months since Agnes' disappearance, his old fear of hellfire has been replaced by another more terrible and pervasive: the fear of the void. Cold Marsh has been abandoned, cursed by God or the Devil both. He is certain of this. He will lose his daughter to death or to marriage, and when the darkness descends to cover his eyes, he will face that black maw alone. — Daniel Mills

Google is so strange. It promises everything, but everything isn't there. You type in the words for what you need, and what you need becomes superfluous in an instant, shadowed instantaneously by the things you really need, and none of them answerable by Google....Sure, there's a certain charm to being able to look up and watch Eartha Kitt singing Old Fashioned Millionaire in 1957 at three in the morning or Hayley Mills singing a song about femininity from an old Disney film. But the charm is a kind of deception about a whole new way of feeling lonely, a semblance of plenitude but really a new level of Dante's inferno, a zombie-filled cemetery of spurious clues, beauty, pathos, pain, the faces of puppies, women and men from all over the world tied up and wanked over in site after site, a great sea of hidden shallows. More and more, the pressing human dilemma: how to walk a clean path between obscenities. — Ali Smith

But the sound of water escaping from mill-dams, &c., willows, old rotten planks, slimy posts, and brickwork, I love such things. Shakespeare could make everything poetical; he tells us of poor Tom's haunts among "sheep cotes and mills." As long as I do paint, I shall never cease to paint such places. They have always been my delight. — John Constable

I see these conferences as a good way to have a break from the day-to-day, learn about some new tech, polish up on some old skills and hopefully have some fun also. They're also good as they show my company is prepared to invest in my skillset. — Rob Mills

There have been loads of times I have regretted meeting Paul because I was so happy in my old life. — Heather Mills

Time dims memory. But not that kind. Somewhere in a corner of the brain, one little cell never forgets. It keeps the song that, heard again, recreates the room, the person, the moment. It preserves the phrase or the laugh or the gesture that resurrects a friend long gone. It knows precisely where you were and what you were doing when you heard about Pearl Harbor if you're old enough, or Kennedy's assassination, or Martin Luther King's, or the Challenger explosion. Every detail is frozen in memory, despite all the years. It keeps the innocuous question, too. The question that sometime later, when all the synapses are working, produces the epiphany, the moment when you're driving along and you realize that finally you understand. And why did it take you so long? — Kay Mills

I would've liked to think I looked a little more mature than the rest of the girls in the class. Then again, with the majority of them being PTs, I probably looked the most like a fourteen-year-old."
-Devon
First & Then — Emma Mills