Quotes About Street

People come up to me in bars and on street corners and they say to me, 'Hey, Paulsen, have you got any change?'

The Street of Booksellers, Via dei Librai, ran through the heart of Florence, midway between the town hall to the south and the cathedral to the north.

the Street of Booksellers was home to eight cartolai. They took their name from the fact that they sold paper (carta) of various sizes and qualities, which they procured from nearby papermills. They also stocked parchment

Hundred-and-twenty-six street on a Tuesday morning long-time-no-see "Hi ya, Monk" "Fump, my man!" camera guy's sweeping jazzmen like bundles toward number 17 they don't notice too busy with how you been...

in these moments, my focus narrows to this femme, this street, this time, protecting her as best I can, not walking back and forth in front of the fence and growling, just slowly raising my big head.

Jesus was offering forgiveness to all and sundry, out there on the street, without requiring that they go through the normal channels. That was his real offense.

As she crossed the street, a rumor of sunshine stood behind the clouds.

Life is beautiful. Be thankful for everything. Destroy your ego. Free hugs. Sing your hearts out in the street. Rock 'n roll.

So if you do acrobatics things on the street with no other goal than showing off, please don't say it's parkour. Acrobatics existed long time ago before parkour.

I am for an art that tells you the time of day, or where such and such a street is. I am for an art that helps old ladies across the street.

I'm totally down with insurrection in the street. I've had a great time with that over the years. Insurrection in the voting booth is the other part of the equation.

The winter street is a salt cave. The snow has stopped falling and it's very cold. The cold is spectacular, penetrating. The street has been silenced, a theatre of whiteness, drifts like frozen waves. Crystals glisten under the streetlights.

After that it would be a matter of other sources for general information, the nearest public house which the male servants might occasionally frequent, errand and delivery boys, street peddlers and crossing sweepers who might have an observant eye and, for a few pence, a ready tongue.

I was in the black silence of a medieval street, and blindly I followed its sharp turns, comforted by the height of its narrow tenements, which seemed at any moment capable of falling together, closing this alleyway under indifferent stars like a seam.

I crossed the street. The snow felt rather good, but then I'm a monster.

We live in a world of accidents finally, in which only aesthetic principles have a consistency of which we can be sure. Right and wrong we will struggle with forever, striving to create and maintain an ethical balance; but the shimmer of summer rain under the street

She walked to work every day feeling starkly, conspicuously alone. It seemed that everyone else on the street had someone to keep them company, someone to laugh with and confide in and nudge in the ribs. All those packs of young girls who'd already figured everything out.

What I do like listening to as I write is the sound of ordinary life out in the street—children playing and workmen talking.

Hierarchical male groups are good at mustering on the street and running into gunfire--another important task--but terrible at creating alliances.

The winter light, tinted by the bright colors in the street, plays on the go-board. All these festivities cut me off from the rest of the world. My loneliness is like a bolt of crimson silk stowed in the bottom of a wooden chest.

Street sweepers were pulling their wide brooms down the road and the swish of their brooms filtered through the tail-end of her dreams.

Stavia saw herself as in a picture, from the outside, a darkly cloaked figure moving along a cobbled street, the stones sheened with a soft, early spring rain.

along a cobbled street, the stones sheened with a soft, early spring rain. On either side the gutters ran with an infant chuckle and gurgle, baby streams being amused with themselves. The

Val- I'm on Bourbon– (Acheron) I will not venture down that street of crass iniquities and plebeian horror, Acheron. It is the cesspit of humanity. (Valerius)