I have a zombie apocalypse kit at my house. I've got freeze dried food, I've got a real deal medical kit, like, a doctor could perform a surgery with this medical kit. I got all kinds of everything.

Dried fruit is a huge part of my diet. Mango, persimmon, banana.

The information diet of a senior campaign staffer is insane. We were all addicted to our chosen email delivery devices and were aggressively tethered to them. It made sense and wasn't an issue during the campaign because of the importance of the situation. However, once the campaign was over and we were successful, the information flow dried up.

There is no time for cut-and-dried monotony. There is time for work. And time for love. That leaves no other time!

I ate some really amazing food in Thailand. I had river turtle, and dried rat, which was quite chewy and interesting and a bit like biltong.

Raw lobster tail, freeze dried, is amazing.

We got to the casino and ordered some drinks. We then walked around, drinking and losing. We had some drinks at the craps table and lost money there. We had some drinks at the slot machines and lost a little more over there. Our drinking and money lasted longer at the blackjack tables, but even there our drinks and winning streak dried up. The more we drank, the flirtier we became. Although I was hemorrhaging money like crazy, I was the luckiest guy in the casino.

Love is like dried flowers sometimes. Even though you watch the petals shrink and change colour, you cannot help treasuring them

I don't like to hear cut and dried sermons. No-when I hear a man preach, I like to see him act as if he were fighting bees.

Self abandoned, relaxed and effortless, I seemed to have laid me down in the dried-up bed of a great river; I heard a flood loosened in remote mountains, I felt the torrent come; to rise I had no will, to flee I had no strength.

Finally, from so little sleeping and so much reading, his brain dried up and he went completely out of his mind.

I looked about me. Luminous points glowed in the darkness. Cigarettes punctuated the humble meditations of worn old clerks. I heard them talking to one another in murmurs and whispers. They talked about illness, money, shabby domestic cares. And suddenly I had a vision of the face of destiny. Old bureaucrat, my comrade, it is not you who are to blame. No one ever helped you to escape. You, like a termite, built your peace by blocking up with cement every chink and cranny through which the light might pierce. You rolled yourself up into a ball in your genteel security, in routine, in the stifling conventions of provincial life, raising a modest rampart against the winds and the tides and the stars. You have chosen not to be perturbed by great problems, having trouble enough to forget your own fate as a man. You are not the dweller upon an errant planet and do not ask yourself questions to which there are no answers. Nobody grasped you by the shoulder while there was still time. Now the clay of which you were shaped has dried and hardened, and naught in you will ever awaken the sleeping musician, the poet, the astronomer that possibly inhabited you in the beginning.

My heart is too thoroughly dried to be broken in a hurry, and I mean to live as long as I can.

There is no time for cut-and-dried monotony. There is time for work. And time for love. That leaves no other time.

One expected growth change without it the world was less the well of inspiration dried up the muses fled.

At root fame is a sham. I'm not going to live forever and if I am I certainly need don't you to tell me that so that I will buy a car or a box of dried up crackers.

My first car was an '84 Ford Taurus. It caught on fire from me trying to change the fuel pump so that wasn't good at all. Dried leaves on the ground while I was trying to change the fuel pump. Don't do that. Do it on concrete.

There is no time for cut-and-dried monotony. There is time for work. And time for love. That leaves no other time!