Quotes About Pavement

He gets back to the Casino just as big globular raindrops, thick as honey, begin to splat into giant asterisks on the pavement, inviting him to look down at the bottom of the text of the day, where footnotes will explain all.

Curran, please don't bite his head off." "Why?" "Because it's illegal. Technically you assaulted him first when you threw him across the lawn." "I didn't throw him very far." I rolled my eyes. "I could've thrown him straight up and let him land on the pavement." "That would also be illegal." "You keep bringing this 'illegal' thing up as if it means something to me.

northern San Diego. The white stucco walls rose, interrupted by huge windows. The whole structure nearly floated off the pavement, sleek, modern, and somehow light, almost delicate. The salt-spiced wind blowing from the coast less than a mile away only strengthened the illusion. He'd

La signora Angellier suonò. La cuoca si affrettò a chiudere le imposte e le finestre, e il buio escluse tutto: i canti, il suono dei baci, il dolce splendore delle stelle, il passo dei vincitori sul selciato , e il verso del rospo assetato che, inappagato, chiedeva acqua al cielo.

Love with pride is like chasing the pavement. There'll be a long chasing until it ends.

By the time we made our way through the crowded tables and reached the hotel lobby, the two men were nowhere to be seen. Lucy pressed on to the front entrance, and we followed. On the steps in front of the hotel, we looked across the boulevard to a vast green expanse of trees, shrubs, and lawns. There was still no sign of the two men. We looked up and down the wide pavement, again without seeing either Dietrich or Richter

Either the pavement was burning or she had sapphires hidden in her shoes. K.D., who had never seen a woman mince or switch like that, believed it was the walk that caused all the trouble.

There's something 'bout the way the street looks when it's just rained There's a glow off the pavement, you walk me to the car And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there In the middle of the parking lot, yeah

A Kourier has to establish space on the pavement. Predictable law-abiding behavior lulls drivers. They mentally assign you to a little box in the lane, assume you will stay there, can't handle it when you leave that little box.

She turns the speedometer off. Running totally black now. Precipitating her way toward the sweet 'crete of the creek bottom like a black angel who has just had the shroud lines of her celestial parachute severed by the Almighty. And when the wheels finally meet the pavement, it just about drives her knees up through her jawbone. She finishes the whole gravitational transaction with not much altitude and a nasty head of dark velocity.

Now the roads just feed into a parking system -- not a lot, not a ramp, but a system -- and lose their identity. Getting through the intersection involves tracing paths through the parking system, many braided filaments of direction like the Ho Chi Minh trail. CSV-5 has better throughput, but Cal.12 has better pavement. That is typical -- Fairlanes roads emphasize getting you there, for Type A drivers, and Cruiseways emphasize the enjoyment of the ride, for Type B drivers.

And then, every time I didn't see her, there was a fall involved. I thought about dancing on the fifth-floor ledge outside out apartment. Every train she wasn't on felt something like hitting the pavement from five floors up. So maybe my father was right about that. Maybe happiness and excitement really are dangerous things.

Life will become intolerable for a bearded man when children rise up out of the pavement at every step, and surround him with the loud shouts of "Beaver!"

History is the action and reaction of these two,— Nature and Thought;— two boys pushing each other on the curb-stone of the pavement.

Everyone knows what a penny dropped form the top of the Empire State Building can do. So if it started to rain pennies, millions of pennies, and these tiny bronze disks were streaking to the earth, catching the sunlight, the bronze rain would explode into the pavement and leave craters and you would run for cover. And there you would be, hiding under some overhand with everyone else who has run for cover, pressed in against the other bodies taking shelter. If it started raining money.

Why is life so tragic; so like a little strip of pavement over an abyss.

Life, with its varieties, its irreticenses, had been laid under a pavement of monuments and wreaths and drugged into a stiff yet staring corpse by discipline.

And this reminds me of my own village church where, during sermon-time on bright Sundays when the birds are very musical indeed, farmers' boys patter out over the stone pavement, and the clerk steps out from his desk after them, and is distinctly heard in the summer repose to pursue and punch them in the churchyard, and is seen to return with a meditative countenance, making believe that nothing of the sort has happened.

When along the pavement, Palpitating flames of life, People flicker around me, I forget my bereavement, The gap in the great constellation, The place where a star used to be

The soil under the grass is dreaming of a young forest, and under the pavement the soil is dreaming of grass.

She walks along the pavement, lost in thoughts about the Internet, so deeply immersed that before she knows it she's at her front door, and guess what? She completely forgot to buy some chocolate on the war home.

The overlap between Pavement's fan base and people who liked Silver Jews was total. In my mind, even a local band with 20 fans had more unqualified support.

the white bowl of the street began to fill with darkness, from the pavement upwards, like somebody pouring tea into a cup.

The beggar has wrapped his legs and feet in brown paper tape, and the effect is startlingly medieval, as though someone has partially sculpted a knight from office materials. The trim calves, the tapered toes, an elegance calling out for ribbons. Above the tape, the man is a blur, a spastic scribble, his being abraded by concrete and misfortune. He has become the color of pavement, his very race in question.