Air Quotes
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When you're writing a sketch, it has to be surrounded by a situation. It can't just be out of the air.
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Superior music is purity itself; it clears the air.
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Compressed air can provide limitless amounts of clean energy using technology we have had for hundreds of years.
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I decided that not talking is like a litmus test for a real friend. You can just sit there and be. Not always be filling up the air with words
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A painting, you know, it's all dirty material. But it's about transformation. Taking that earth, that heavy earthen kind of thing, turning it into air and light.
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My breath in the cold air was bleach that accidentally spilled on a black t-shirt.
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Our little drawing Room Constable's lodgings at Hamptstead with a view on London commands a view unequalled in Europe - from Westminster Abbey to Gravesend - the dome of St Paul's in the Air - realizes Michael Angelo's Idea on seeing that of the Pantheon - 'I will build such a thing in the Sky.'
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We don't know nearly enough about the complexities of Nature. If we think we can eliminate natural ecosystems and substitute prosthetic devices, i.e. clean air or water with fusion energy - we are kidding ourselves.
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I immediately understood the general air of humiliation that comes with trying to do something as ridiculous as be an actor in Hollywood. It's just kind of an embarrassing endeavor.
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Sitting in the flickering light of the candles on this kerchief of sand, on this village square, we waited in the night. We were waiting for the rescuing dawn - or for the Moors. Something, I know not what, lent this night a savor of Christmas. We told stories, we joked, we sang songs. In the air there was that slight fever that reigns over a gaily prepared feast. And yet we were infinitely poor. Wind, sand, and stars. The austerity of Trappists. But on this badly lighted cloth, a handful of men who possessed nothing in the world but their memories were sharing invisible riches.
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Into the air, over the valleys, under the stars, above a river, a pond, a road, flew Cecy. Invisible as new spring winds, fresh as the breath of clover rising from twilight fields, she flew.
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Living submerged at the bottom of an ocean of air.
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O to speed where there is space enough and air enough at last!
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If I get hungry, I get cranky on air.
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And I walked, I walked through the light air; I moved with the morning.
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Music begins and ends in the air - it's got to be shared.
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Obviously, the young dancers lack a certain air of maturity.
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I also knew I had inherited the name of the world's most famous philosopher. I hated that. Everyone expected something from me. Something I just couldn't give. So I renamed myself Ari. If I switched the letter, my name was Air. I thought it might be a great thing to be the air. I could be something and nothing at the same time. I could be necessary and also invisible. Everyone would need me and no one would be able to see me.
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Look at the stars! Look, look up at the skies! Oh look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air! The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there!
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I got a statistic for you right now. Grab your pencil, Doug. There are five billion trees in the world. I looked it up. Under every tree is a shadow, right? So, then, what makes night? I'll tell you: shadows crawling out from under five billion trees! Think of it! Shadows running around in the air, muddying the waters you might say. If only we could figure a way to keep those darn five billion shadows under those trees, we could stay up half the night, Doug, because there'd be no night!
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The mother eagle teaches her little ones to fly by making their nest so uncomfortable that they are forced to leave it and commit themselves to the unknown world of air outside. And just so does our God to us. He stirs up our comfortable nests, and pushes us over the edge of them, and we are forced to use our wings to save ourselves from fatal falling. Read your trials in this light, and see if you cannot begin to get a glimpse of their meaning. Your wings are being developed.
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I want all hellions to quit puffing that hell fume in God's clean air.
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Who turns away from gazing at the sun Sees its dusk images fill all the air. It is not otherwise when Hope is done: Her darkling phantoms make the heaven of Despair.
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I do remember that when we left Bernard Leach after two and a half years, we went home on a boat again - this was before air travel became really easy - and Alix MacKenzie turned to me and she said, "You know, that was a great two years of training, but that's not the way we're going to run our pottery."
