Quotes About Tracks

Everybody says they want to be free. Take the train off the tracks and it's free-but it can't go anywhere.

Ellington is a writer and arranger, as well as a musician and leader. He does movie sound tracks.

I feel like too many people on the West Coast, they're too needy. They feel they need Snoop or Game. I never did any tracks with any West Coast artists. Not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't feel like that's what I had to do in order to get on. I just did music.

I had a moment to visualize Larry out in the dark all alone, unarmed except for his cross. The thought made my skin cold. I opened my mouth to yell at him and closed it. Never dress anyone down in public unless it's an object lesson. I said, Any tracks? I gave myself a dozen brownie points for yelling. Do I look like Tonto? Beside the ground is just grass and it's been so dry lately. I don't think there'd be any tracks.

See your reality as a life that has many tracks or potentials that you call "the future."

I know my fate whirls about me like water in a weir. It's hard on my heels, following my tracks, but I never look back.

Snowlight, moonlight, a confusion of paw-prints.

Technically speaking, there is no music whatsoever on a CD. Lots of information, but no music.

Curiously, the Swedes looked for untouched snow, while the Norwegians wanted marked and prepared tracks so that they could race along the valleys and over the plateau. Another difference: Swedes carried equipment to face the elements; the Norwegians put their trust in mobility and light equipment, sometimes with dire consequences.

The steam trains crossed the country, the gleaming tracks clumsy sutures across wounded miles of stolen land.

Great art, she felt, had a calming effect on the viewer; it made one stop in awe, which is exactly what Damien Hirst and Andy Warhol did not do. You did not stop in awe. They stopped you in your tracks, perhaps, but that was not the same thing; awe was something quite different

I knelt by the fire to make certain there were no burning embers left. That was when I spied the tracks of a lion. There were only a few such beasts left in the desert, but one had come here, answering my call. He had been there all the while, watching over me, before he left me at last.

I was living on the wrong side of the tracks in Evanston, Illinois, in a home for boys. We had these Jackson 5 records. I really related to their voices - they were about my age, but they were doing it.

We do not teach history; we recreate the experience. We follow the chain of consequences - the tracks of the beast in its forest. Look behind our words and you see the broad sweep of social behavior that no historian has ever touched.

Good short-story collections, like good record albums, are almost always hit-and-miss affairs - successful if they include three or four great tracks, wildly successful if they have five. And that's as it should be.

Those were hard times, but I loved living there. I would walk on the tracks, hopping, skipping. I enjoyed the neighborhood, I enjoyed El Paso. I remember being chased by tumbleweeds on windy days; they came up to my neck.

The autumn rains had erased the tracks made by horses and men, the forest reclaiming its territory.

Wild animals passed on their way under the leaves; each track was an arterial road; and when I stooped and looked at the earth close to, I saw, from leaf to leaf and flower to flower, a moving host of insects.

Ancient priests and builders must have known about the earth's magnetism and its strange fluctuations. They located their temples, mounds, and pyramids in the dead center of magnetic anomalies. And they laid out long, arrow-straight tracks or "leys" between these magnetic points.

In what bold relief stand out the lives of all walkers of the snow! The snow is a great tell-tale, and blabs as effectually as it obliterates. I go into the woods, and know all that has happened. I cross the fields, and if only a mouse has visited his neighbor, the fact is chronicled.

True solitude is a din of birdsong, seething leaves, whirling colors, or a clamor of tracks in the snow

I have always had strong maternal instincts. Even when I was still a child I cut out pictures of prams from newspapers and imagined the feeling of pushing my own pram through fresh winter snow and seeing the wheels' tracks behind me in the snow.

I really wished I'd learned Spanish. I took it all in high school and was planning on trying to be fluent in it. I would get Selena tracks and sing with them and stuff like that.

Tourists and transients lived in hotels and motels along the waterfront. Behind them a belt of slums lay ten blocks deep, where the darker half of the population lived and died. On the other side of the tracks - the tracks were there - the business section wore its old Spanish facades like icing on a stale cake.