Send your noble blood to market and see what it will bring.
Noble blood is an accident of fortune; noble actions characterize the great.
Either we're going to solve this by realistic negotiation or there will be blood on the border.
Design is easy. All you do is stare at the screen until drops of blood form on your forehead.
... not that his face was much lined, but all the blood and colour seemed to have faded from his body, and even his eyes, which last he kept usually closed, as though the light distressed him. There was an unspeakable degree of slyness in his expression, which kept me ill at ease; he seemed to lie there with his arms folded, like a spider waiting for prey. His speech was very deliberate and courteous, but scarce louder than ...
An ounce of blood is worth more than a pound of friendship.
The liberties of our country, the freedoms of our civil Constitution are worth defending at all hazards; it is our duty to defend them against all attacks. We have received them as a fair inheritance from our worthy ancestors. They purchased them for us with toil and danger and expense of treasure and blood. It will bring a mark of everlasting infamy on the present generation – enlightened as it is – if we should suffer them to be wrested from us by violence without a struggle, or to be cheated out of them by the artifices of designing men.
Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.
The blood of Jesus Christ can cover a multitude of sins, it seems to me.
The savage bows down to IDOLS of wood and stone: the civilized man to IDOLS of flesh and blood.
Absence does not make the heart grow fonder, but it sure heats up the blood
Anger is blood, poured and perplexed into froth; but malice is the wisdom of our wrath.
Nature has left this tincture in the blood, That all men would be tyrants if they could.
I think sometimes all the charities are doing is mopping up the blood. It's a shame.
Writing was like digging coal. I sweat blood. The spell is on me.
No kingdom has shed more blood than the kingdom of Christ.
The way to make money is to buy when blood is running in the streets.
The weapon of suicide bombing is so desperate that you aren't even left with the possibility of taking revenge or punishing anyone; the terrorist is killed along with his victims, his blood mixing with theirs.†
I struck the board, and cried, No more:
I will abroad.
What? shall I ever sigh and pine?
My lines and life are free; free as the road,
Loose as the wind, as large as store.
Shall I be still in suit?
Have I no harvest but a thorn
To let me blood, and not restore
What I have lost with cordial fruit?
Sure there was wine
Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn
Before my tears did drown it;
Is the year only lost to me?
Have I no bays to crown it?
From the back label of a Cline Zin:
"Know me, stranger,
For I am thy life blood
and thy nectar.
I shall wet thy lips, parched
by the winds of deprivation.
And nourished shall be thy body,
dessicated by the scorching
inferno of temperance.
Rest thy head upon my bosom,
Lose thyself in the ecstasy of
And know me,
For I am
French wines may be said but to pickle meat in the stomach, but this is the wine that digests, and doth not only breed good blood, but it nutrifieth also, being a glutinous substantial liquor; of this wine, if of any other, may be verified that merry induction: That good wine makes good blood, good blood causeth good humors, good humors cause good thoughts, good thoughts bring forth good works, good works carry a man to heaven, ergo, good wine carrieth a man to heaven.
Name me any liquid except our own blood that flows more intimately and incessantly through the labyrinth of symbols we have conceived to make our status as human beings, from the rudest peasant festival to the mystery of the Eucharist. To take wine into our mouths is to savor a droplet of the river of human history
There is this long, wonderful history of the human race written in blood. We have this tendency to just take what we want. And that's how we treat the natural world as well. There's this sense of we're here, we're big, we've got the guns, we've got the technology, therefore we're entitled to every damn thing on this planet. That's not how it works and we're going to find out the hard way if we don't kind of wise up and start seeking a life that's in balance with the natural life on Earth.
Such a fatigue of adjectives, a drone of alliterations, a huffing of hyphenated words hurdling the meter like tired horses. Such a faded upholstery of tears, stars, bells, bones, flood and blooda thud of consonants in tongue, night, dark, dust, seed, wound and wind.
The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites one family.
Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it.
Whatever he does to the web he does to himself.