Pretty much all the drivers I get on with, at least to say 'Hi' and have a conversation. But when the helmet's on, you don't care who it is. You have no sympathy: someone blows an engine in front of you, if it means you gain a position, then you're smiling.

Our biggest learnings come only from the biggest blows, hence, I'd request one and all to look out for the silver linings and focus on positive thoughts and ideas, because as I always say, every cloud has a silver lining, and every sunset ends with a beautiful sunrise.

Music is not math. It's science. You keep mixing the stuff up until it blows up on you, or it becomes this incredible potion.

We had news this morning of another successful atomic bomb being dropped on Nagasaki. These two heavy blows have fallen in quick succession upon the Japanese and there will be quite a little space before we intend to drop another.

Ultimately, so much Dr. Seuss is about empowerment. He invites us to disappear into our imagination and then blows the doors off what that can mean.

Through humor, you can soften some of the worst blows that life delivers. And once you find laughter, no matter how painful your situation might be, you can survive it.

Be as a tower firmly set; Shakes not its top for any blast that blows.

I try to keep at a non-obsessive level of fitness. It's not about looking great, it's about just feeling good. So I do a lot of yoga. Bikram just blows my mind. It's mental as well as physical; if I don't train, I get very depressed.

Wherever the wind blows me, I'll go! My eventual goal is to have enough experience to produce something on my own.

But I'm trying not to be cynical - I don't want to be one of those people who has a cool opportunity and blows it. It's really amazing what's happening to me.

The main prank that we play with props is for people's birthdays. The special effects people will put a little explosive in the cake so it blows up in their face - that's always fun to play on a guest star, or one of the trainees or someone who's new.

Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind.

If you're just starting out as a writer, you could do worse than strip your television's electric plug-wire, wrap a spike around it, and then stick it back into the wall. See what blows, and how far. Just an idea.

I was left with a scar. I think telling stories is a way of putting a scar into words. Since not all blows or falls leave marks, the words are there, ready to be put together in different ways, anywhere, anytime, in response to any fall, however serious or slight.

Love may be an inexhaustible well of Inspirational for writing loads of letters until the wind of unresponsiveness blows frostiness into the fold of expectations.( "Poste restante" )

"hate blows a bubble of despair into

You become a house where the wind blows straight through, because no one bothers the crack in the window or lock on the door, and you're the house where people come and go as they please, because you're simply too unimpressed to care. You let people in who you really shouldn't let in, and you let them walk around for a while, use your bed and use your books, and await the day when they simply get bored and leave. You're still not bothered, though you knew they shouldn't have been let in in the first place, but still you just sit there, apathetic like a beggar in the desert.

The Wise are Superb Observers of Nature and Rise Superior to the Blows of Fortune

I feel like a violet standing alone in a vast meadow. When a cool, gentle breeze blows, I feel peaceful. If the wind turns strong and hot from the south, I plot suicide.

I don't have a diary, I don't write things into a diary. I imprint myself into the sky and when the sunlight shines brightly, I can stand under the sun's rays and everything I have imprinted of myself into the sky, I will begin to see again, feel again, remember. And when the wind begins to blow, it blows the details over my face, and I remember everything I left in the sky and see new things being born. I am unwritten.

The more I connect with my sensuality the more I experience God. As the wind blows through the curtains, that's how sweet His presence is.

After all this time, it still seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out--but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it.

Hell's bells, irony blows.

Rose took my nose, I suppose," he repeated; the bubble of phlegm in his throat made a disgusting crackle. "And it really blows.