T Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with T. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“The ball gave me prestige, gave me fame, gave me riches. Thank you, my old friend.”
“The ball goes down the keeper's throat where it hits him on the knees to say the least.”
“The ball has broken 50-50 for Keegan”
“The ball is an essential part of the game.”
“The ball is like a woman, she loves to be caressed.”
“The ball is man's most disastrous invention, not excluding the wheel.”
“The ball is now in your court. Hit it exactly where you want it.”
Source: 2024… Your Year of More
“The ball is round so that the game can change direction”
“The ball is round, make sure you pass it around”
“The ball is round, the game is long.”
“The ball is round, the game lasts ninety minutes, and everything else is just theory.”
“The ball laughs, radiant, in the air. He brings her down, puts her to sleep, showers her with compliments, dances with her, and seeing such things never before seen his admirers pity their unborn grandchildren who will never see them.”
“The ball must be as slippery as a wet baby.”
“The ball of iced cream was nestled in a crystal dish. A pale orange in hue, it was studded with bright green pistachio kernels and glistening slivers of lemon peel. The flavors mingled in my mouth, sweet orange, sharp lemon, and the earthy bitterness of the nuts. Better than anything my mother had made. I forced it down.
We were in Hannah's kitchen. She smiled at the look of rapture on my face. "I tried beating it periodically while it was freezing. It has greatly improved the texture. I am trying out other ideas too."
How innovative she was. I smiled at her fondly. The queue had been out the door when I'd arrived, and iced cream was the demand upon everyone's lips. Hannah had three flavors on sale now: peach, raspberry, and the one I'd just tried, which she had named "Royal Ice.”
Source: The Art of a Lie
“The ball of rumor and criticism, once it starts rolling, is difficult to stop.”
“The ball retriever is not long enough to get my putter out of the tree.”
“The ball was coming down like a butterfly with sore feet.”
“The ball was held in a middle-class home. The girls were anemic - some of them; the others were red as raspberries. John liked the pale ones best, the ones with black or blue rings round their eyes. They looked so sad and suffering and pitiable, and they cast tender yearning glances at him, such yearning glances.”
Source: The Son of a Servant
“The ball was literally glued to the back of his foot - into the back of the net.”
“The ball whizzes past like a bumblebee and the Indians are in the sea.”
“The Ballad of Harry Lime by Stewart Stafford
Harry found existence overrated,
And its shadow, morality, so outdated,
Scurrying rats down here in the sewer,
Porcine gluttons in punished manure.
Grand aspirations from primordial slime,
Lifting up the rock from time to time,
Samson, destroying a temple of hypocrisy,
And every pillar - hope, faith and charity,
They'd had him from baptism's font,
Trapped before wording his wants,
A heel dipped in brackish liturgy,
Silent collusion in mass duplicity.
For those who remained in smoky rubble?
Rudely awakened from a cocoon bubble:
An obelisk erected to grotesque finance,
Charon’s fee for a Stygian dance.
© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
“The Ballad of Lucy Jordan
The morning sun touched lightly on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
In a white suburban bedroom in a white suburban town
As she lay there 'neath the covers dreaming of a thousand lovers
Till the world turned to orange and the room went spinning round.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair.
So she let the phone keep ringing and she sat there softly singing
Little nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.
Her husband, he's off to work and the kids are off to school,
And there are, oh, so many ways for her to spend the day.
She could clean the house for hours or rearrange the flowers
Or run naked through the shady street screaming all the way.
At the age of thirty-seven she realised she'd never
Ride through Paris in a sports car with the warm wind in her hair
So she let the phone keep ringing as she sat there softly singing
Pretty nursery rhymes she'd memorised in her daddy's easy chair.
The evening sun touched gently on the eyes of Lucy Jordan
On the roof top where she climbed when all the laughter grew too loud
And she bowed and curtsied to the man who reached and offered her his hand,
And he led her down to the long white car that waited past the crowd.
At the age of thirty-seven she knew she'd found forever
As she rode along through Paris with the warm wind in her hair”
“The Ballad of Philippe Petit
—for the world's greatest rope dancer
Philippe Petit hangs his high wire
in the third eye of God,
fills the dull air with blue fire,
all alone on the big city street,
Little Phillip, Philippe Petit.
Philippe Petit, high priest of daring,
feels wind pulse in his feet,
flying high on his mystical string,
between tall towers above the street.
Little Phillip, Philippe Petit.
Little Phillip by the Golden Fleece,
making Seventh Avenue sing.
He draws a magic circle of chalk,
rides his cycle around in a ring,
Little Phillip, Philippe Petit.
Little Phillip, clown gargoyle,
spewing light on the grey street,
rope dances twirling sticks of fire,
bright sparkle of the dark street,
Little Phillip, Philippe Petit.
Philippe Petit juggles fire and balls,
winks at Zeus, laughs at Mars,
pulls Newton's beard, sups with God,
cycling his way from heaven to street.
Little Phillip, Philippe Petit.
Little Phillip, when we get there,
you'll surely be on high,
juggling molecules for your maker
on the wide streets of the sky,
Little Phillip, Philippe Petit.
Philippe Petit, The King of Heaven
has a brilliant little fool
juggling fire at his footstool.
A light on the dark city street,
A light, a light, Philippe Petit.”
“THE BALLADE OF SUMMER'S FALL
Hues of pale green, on delicate olive branches the soft rustling of somberness along the fields of gold that lay themselves to gentle rest after another long summer.
I have nothing to bury under them
except my own heart -that is my soul's greatest regret, once my lines begin to fill in autumn, under the velvet gloom of shortening days.
The admiration of the Florentine sun had doomed my words to become eventually a remembrance once September falls in October's pale hands.
I shall have nothing to grieve for
once the winter arrives, coming over the distant hills and laying bare the orchards along his way.
I doomed them to become ruins by overthinking, hoping - at least once too often - for change;
So, let it be then.
I will mourn my mere passion for life in the presence of death - though my art may be eternal.”
“The ballance distinguisheth not betweene gold and lead.”
Source: The Complete Works of George Herbert: Prose
“the ballerina on perfected toe
Spins to the axis of a fortitude
That is the sum of all her yesterdays.”
“The ballet embodies the notes of music. And sometimes you almost feel like you can see the notes dance up there on the stage.”
“The ballet is a purely female thing; it is a woman, a garden of beautiful flowers, and man is the gardener.”
“The ballet needs to tell its own story in such a way it can be received without having to be translated into language.”
“The ballet of the good city sidewalk never repeats itself from place to place, and in any one place is always replete with new improvisations.”
Source: The Death and Life of Great American Cities
“The ballet. I saw in the fugitive beauty of a dancer's gesture a symbol of life. It was achieved at the cost of unending effort but, with all the forces of gravity against it, a fleeting poise in mid-air, a lovely attitude worthy to be made immortal in a bas-relief, it was lost as soon as it was gained and there remained no more than the memory of an exquisite emotion. So life, lived variously and largely, becomes a work of art only when brought to its beautiful conclusion and is reduced to nothingness in the moment when it arrives at perfection.”
“The ballgame is over...in this inning.”
“The balloon floated just above a ridge that ran along one side of the valley. They could see no one, no ani- mals or sign of any life, but there were trails in the hard sand bed that suggested people occasionally passed this way. Such trails could be misleading, for in the desert they could exist for an eternity, and one could never tell how old they might be.”
Source: Empires of Sand by David Ball
“The balloon seems to stand still in the air while the earth flies past underneath.”
“The balloons only have one life and the only way of finding out whether they work is to attempt to fly around the world.”
“The ballot box is a most inadequate mechanism of change.”
“The ballot box is the surest arbiter of disputes among free men.”
Source: State of the Union Addresses
“The ballot is stronger than bullets.”
“The ballot is stronger than the bullet.”
“The ballot is the only safety.”
Source: Life and Times of Frederick Douglass: His Early Life as a Slave, His Escape from Bondage, and His Complete History to the Present Time
“The ballpark is the star. In the age of Tris Speaker and Babe Ruth, the era of Jimmie Foxx and Ted Williams, through the empty-seats epoch of Don Buddin and Willie Tasby and unto the decades of Carl Yastrzemski and Jim Rice, the ballpark is the star. A crazy-quilt violation of city planning principles, an irregular pile of architecture, a menace to marketing consultants, Fenway Park works. It works as a symbol of New England's pride, as a repository of evergreen hopes, as a tabernacle of lost innocence. It works as a place to watch baseball.”
“The ballparks have gotten too crowded. That's why nobody goes to see the game anymore.”
“The ballplayer who loses his head, who can't keep his cool, is worse than no ballplayer at all.”
“The BALLPOINT PENGUINS, black and white, Do little else but write and write. Although they've nothing much to say, They write and write it anyway.”
“The ballroom of Royal Academy might be the most magnificent sight I've ever seen. The enormous room is lit entirely by clouds of fireflies that float near the ceiling. Flowers crawl down the walls like ivy, while dozens of beautiful potted trees give the room the illusion of an enchanted forest.”
Source: Misfits
“The balls definitely carry a lot more. There should be some more home runs this year. Some of the guys on the team will have more home runs. On defense we'll have to cover some more ground.”
“The balls do not make a writer.”
“The balls of sight are so formed, that one man's eyes are spectacles to another, to read his heart with.”
“The balls of this fucking girl.”
Source: 4 Kids Walk Into a Bank
“The balls used in top class games are generally smaller than those used in others.”
Source: Class