Quotes About Wear

lugar para elegir entre una amplia selección es VintageWesternWear.com. Una camisa puede parecer poca cosa,

Walking in circles your whole life just gets scuff marks on your shoes.

Brass shines with constant usage, a beautiful dress needs wearing, Leave a house empty, it rots.

And earth was heaven a little the worse for wear. And heaven was earth, done up again to look like new.

But not in this world: things wore out, and you lost them in a thousand ways, preposterous and unconnected with any notion of devotion, martyrdom, sacrifice

The floor was covered with a faded, barely legible carpet, its traditional pattern of tanks and helicopters worn to colorless patterns of weft.

Deach becomes some men. Others wear it shamefully; others still, defiantly. Their protest choking, suffocating.

White is for witching, a colour to be worn so that all other colours can enter you, so that you may use them. At a pinch, cream will do.

I needed words, lots of words to think about while I was going about the rest of the day. And I didn't want anything affected. I wanted nothing to do with those Romance languages. I wanted clipped words, full of common sense. Thoughts to wear beneath my thoughts. Allow, express, oath, vow, dismay, matter, splash, mollify. I liked those words. I liked saying them. I still do.

White is for witching, a colour to be worn so that all other colours can enter you, so that you may use them.

I now wear the memory of nothingness a piece of white sail wrapped like second skin.

Human contact wears things out with disheartening slowness.

At the touch of mankind, things wear away with heartbreaking slowness.

"Play it as it lies" is one of the fundamental dictates of golf. The other is "Wear it if it clashes."

His mother called them his gems and often asked him why he liked things that were worn and old. It would have been hard to tell her. But there was something about the way in which the link of a chain was worn or the thread on a bolt or a castor-wheel that gave him a vague feeling of pain when he ran his fingers over them. They were like worn shoe-soles or very thin dimes. You never saw them wear, you only knew they were worn, obscurely aching

Time gnaws and wears away; it separates; it flies. And by virtue of separation--by separating man from his pain or from the object of his pain--time cures.

It is the weather, not work, that wears out sails.

I wear Blundstones for hiking. They're like a work boot with a bit of grip, so you can wear them all day. They're quite groovy.

An angel's face is tricky to wear constantly.

Well, I will wear the bees, like Damon and Pythagoras – ho, a mere sixty thousand bees in the cabin don't signify, much.

It's an Anglo-Saxon failing, I suppose. Constantly we want proof, here and now, proof of our existence, of the mark we've made, the sort of mark we can wear round our necks, to label us, to make sure we're never lost in that awful dark jungle of anonymity.

Bolshevism is not a policy; it is a disease. It is not a creed; it is a pestilence. It presents all the characteristics of a pestilence. It breaks out with great suddenness; it is violently contagious; it throws people into a frenzy of excitement; it spreads with extraordinary rapidity; the mortality is terrible; so that, after a while, like other pestilences, the disease tends to wear itself out.

as shoes wore down and their cushioning thinned, runners gained more foot control.

But our secrets do not keep us. They worry at us; they wear us away, from the inside out.