Gift of Gab famous quotes
Last updated: Sep 5, 2024
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I'm frozen in time, it's more than just you being a dyme I see the other half of me when I look in your eyes
-- Gift of Gab -
Music is how I get free. It's a way to shut the rest of the world down and create your own world within it. I'm not thinking about what's going on around me. It's definitely an energy thing, and I'm in a zone.
-- Gift of Gab -
Until the day I don't breathe, I will create music.
-- Gift of Gab -
Doing a show is very similar to what meditation is supposed to be: being there and being present in that space and time.
-- Gift of Gab
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I dont really take anything from home except some U.S. magazines and books and definitely some U.S. music. There are just certain songs that remind me of home.
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Faith is not the clinging to a shrine but an endless pilgrimage of the heart. Audacious longing, burning songs, daring thoughts, an impulse overwhelming the heart, usurping the mind--these are all a drive towards serving Him who rings our hearts like a bell. It is as if He were waiting to enter our empty, perishing lives.
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A lot of times, I played bass on songs. Gene plays guitar on some songs.
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And when you, O human, will return to Nature, that day your eyes will open, you will stare straight into the eyes of Nature and in its mirror you will see your image. You will knowthat when you hid from Nature, you hid from yourselfWe who have been turned away from Nature - if we desire life, we must establish a new relationship with Nature.
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Quiet descended, a silence so consuming that even the drafty corridors ceased whistling. Bog wasn't certain where to look, so he solved the problem by plucking out his eyes and sticking them in a drawer.
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Order, thou eye of action.
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Wild Eyes was built for speed and I was flying down walls of water twenty and thirty feet high.
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The winds were blowing from west to east, pushing Abby's boat toward the rocks as Abby struggled with the autopilots below. If Wild Eyes reached those islands, she wouldn't run aground, keel in the sand. She would be smashed into pieces.
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Reality is like a fruitcake; pretty enough to look at but with all sorts of nasty things lurking just beneath the surface.
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You can look at the words on this paper and, because they are the ones I am used to choosing, they will show you the shape of me. I am here to be read in the way you might read the impression of my weight in a bed after a still night, a restless night, a night not alone.
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