

when there's a fast ball down the middle, you better believe i'm going to swing as hard as i can.
white, male, middle-class, is NOT a beautiful thing to be.
you should always brush your teeth before you go to bed, you never know when an angel is going to kiss you in the middle of the night.
is that a camera in your jacket or are you just happy to see me.
i'm not even barking, i'm in the middle of the desert, there's not a tree in site.
wiggle on.
the predeterminations of life. who knows. who. what. where. when why. i'm in the middle of a storm. let's win. if only winning were like losing. snapped and in a bottle of rum.
we need some cultural exchange in this war, we'll send michael jackson and neverland ranch to the middle of baghdad and put saddam hussein in the san diego zoo.
it's not how much you write in paper, but how much you write in heart.
well that just happens to be my middle name.
i've got more ideas than a kangaroo's got hops.
for once, i will saunter as if i were young again.
it won't he the beginning, nor the end,
just some subtle time in the lost middle.
if by chance i find love, i will follow it.
and if by opposite, that which is hate,
i will stretch forward a helping hand.
100 for 3. it's a gift isn't it. maybe in the middle of all that storm i talk. in all that storm is a little pocket where you can fit perfectly. it's a jello blanket. work hard, volunteer, it'll pay off.
i'm stuck, mid rotation, back facing the landing, almost entirely inverted, solid grab, in the middle of the air and touching nothing else, my mind is stuck in one of the most beautiful feelings i've ever known.
beer, brats, and burgers are a good way to wrap up a day that started with bacon, beer, and sausage and was filled in the middle with football, sunshine, and friends.
soft, subtle, and smooth.
i pass porsches with my escort.
one sacrifice from me and one sacrifice from you and we're just left with the middle ground, i just feel that with creativity this can compromise the final product, sometimes you just need to let someone run with it.
must get out of this white middle class box! step far away from my own box! step far away from your own box!
if people had digg buttons on their foreheads, i would totally digg you.
i commit to where my productivity leads me, not where my productivity needs me, this is how i thrive, this is how i make what i do happen, and if it means my best idea comes to me in the middle of the night i need to get up and do it.
peace in the middle east, yo'.
a friend told me that, "some people wait their entire lives for their moment to shine, but you've been shining for your entire life." a wise and very true statement. people should realize how much they have to offer. People should realize how beautiful they are.
struggle to call an end, i fear being mean, i get lazy in the middle of the week, there's three boxes of ice cream in the freezer, several dozen sweet cherries to eat, and all I can think of is how beautiful this camera is... alright, the camera might not be beautiful itself to most people, but if something makes beauty, wouldn't that thing that makes the beauty also be beautiful.
kick some toe.
there is no appropriate journal. no appropriate words. no appropriate picture. just one appropriate person. my dear friend bob who sits in jail. i pray for him. and i received a letter from him. his small cartoons. and in the middle of the second page a detailed drawing of christ with a thorned wreath on his head and tears rolling from his eyes as if he was frowning on bob's actions. and on the sides bob said he was repenting a lot. as always a level of deep insight that goes unheard and uncredited. well, my friend, i'm listening. one of the finest.
414.
once again i'm in the middle of another peaceful day here in america. peace. what does all this war come to. here is another day that's going to be recorded in every history book ever made from this day forward. at least in america. will they talk about this war with pride as well. well the newscasters shed even a tear this time. will america shed a tear that these innocent people have been striped of their lives, and all their posessions before that. i want to know. what is it like? what's it like to have bombs in your back yard. maybe there would be some understanding if that experience existed. but not for me. freedom kicks in. we can move about freely in this country. my heart is at a standstill. my eyes search around in the hope of an answer. an answr that is skips along the lines of impossible. laying down is easy for most of us. but not for two billion other people in the world. hopefully those people have not been stripped of their wonders of imagination, creativity, dreams, hope, faith, and love. i dream of a day where peace rains across the world.