Sharbino Walking Quotes & Sayings

In Islam, and especially among the Sufi Orders, siyahat or 'errance' - the action or rhythm of walking - was used as a technique for dissolving the attachments of the world and allowing men to lose themselves in God. The aim of a dervish was to become a 'dead man walking': one whose body stays alive on the earth yet whose soul is already in Heaven. A Sufi manual, the Kashf-al-Mahjub, says that, toward the end of his tourney, the dervish becomes the Way not the wayfarer, i.e. a place over which something is passing, not a traveller following his own free will...it was quite similar to an Aboriginal concept, 'Many men afterwards become country, in that place, Ancestors.' By spending his whole life walking and singing his Ancestor's Songline, a man eventually became the track, the Ancestor and the song. The Wayless Way, where the Sons of God lose themselves and, at the same time, find themselves. — Meister Eckhart

Pop music is great, but there's a lot of BS about the attitude of guys being super-gangster - that's why the whole thing is silly. It's making fun of itself. That self-awareness is why people enjoy it. It's refreshing. — Emily Ratajkowski

My brother never got an opportunity to throw a pitch, and I didn't want the same thing to happen to another young kid. — Pedro Martinez

My genre-hopping has caused problems with marketing and sales departments over the years, because they need to know where to position a book with the booksellers. — F. Paul Wilson

I can be more cold than people would like me to be. — Maelle Gavet

Cause I won't repeat myself, the way I dress and look. — Kelly Lynch

Michael Moore and I actually have a lot in common. We both appreciate living in a country where there's free expression. But Michael, if you ever show up at my front door with a camera, I'll kill you. I mean it. — Clint Eastwood

It's not something you can prove ... I know you hate to hear this, but you either have it, or you don't. — Charles De Lint

It had grown cold in the night but he was numb with other weathers. An equinox in the heart, ill change, unluck. Suttree held his face in his hands. Child of darkness and familiar of small dooms. He himself used to wake in terror to find whole congregations of the uninvited attending his bed, protean figures slouched among the room's dark corners in all multiplicity of shapes, gibbons and gargoyles, arachnoids of outrageous size, a batshaped creature hung by some cunning in a high corner from whence clicked and winked like bone chimes its incandescent teeth. — Cormac McCarthy