Sidewalk Quotes (page 3)
You aimin' to go the full circle now? How long before I have to come get you up from the sidewalks? You got hurt and pain in you? Well, I used to know a man who knew how to live with his pain and make his hurt work for him. Your daddy died with dignity; there wasn't no bum in him. And he known some hurts in this life you ain't never even heard of!
Lorraine Hansberry
I could wait patiently, but I really wish you would: Drop everything now, meet me in the pourin' rain, Kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain; Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile. Hit me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down, Give me somethin' that'll haunt me when you're not around; Cause I see sparks fly whenever you . . . smile.
Taylor Swift
You know, Dag and Claire smile a lot, as do many people I know. But I always wondered if there is something either mechanical or malignant to their smiles, for the way they keep their outer lips propped up seems a bit, not false, but protective. A minor realization hits me as I sit with the two of them. It is the realisation that the smiles that they wear in their daily lives are the same as the smiles worn by people who have been good-naturedly fleeced, but fleeced nonetheless, in public and...
Doug Coupland
Drop everything now. Meet me in the pouring rain. Kiss me on the sidewalk. Take away the pain'cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile. Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down. Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around'cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile
Taylor Swift
The wind outside nested in each tree, prowled the sidewalks in invisible treads like unseen cats. Tom Skelton shivered. Anyone could see that the wind was a special wind this night, and the darkness took on a special feel because it was All Hallows' Eve. Everything seemed cut from soft black velvet or gold or orange velvet. Smoke panted up out of a thousand chimneys like the plumes of funeral parades. From kitchen windows drifted two pumpkin smells: gourds being cut, pies being baked.
Ray Bradbury
seven. seven was when ethan had learned to ride a bicycle. macon was visited by one of those memories that dent the skin, that strain the muscles. he felt the seat of ethan's bike pressing into his hand--the curled-under edge at the rear that you hold onto when you're trying to keep a bicycle upright. he felt the sidewalk slapping against his soles as he ran. he felt himself let go, slow to a walk, stop with his hands on his hips to call out, "you've got her now! you've got her!" and ethan...
Anne Tyler