Running Quotes

“I understand what's expected of me. I understand the lineage for the running back position of the Dallas Cowboys.”

“Talking is great, but don't ignore the value of listening. Pay attention to the words being spoken. Some people just love the sound of their own voice. And, when another person speaks, they are only anticipating to compete, challenge, or question what is being said. You can miss out on some important wisdom always running your mouth.”

“I always feel like I'm running an hour and a half late.”

“The trouble with not having a goal is that you can spend your life running up and down the field and never score.”

“That's something I've done my whole life. That's still my first position. It's all about whatever the coaches need. Running back is still in my heart.”

“Running a government as chief minister and managing affairs of the nation are different things.”

“The first term of the Clinton administration was very jolly. Everybody was running around meeting people and of course, in the second term, everyone went down the black hole, which also happened at the end of the Reagan administration.”

“Still, we've attempted to argue when necessary; you've got to be able to let loose and even lose your temper a bit if you're finding it hard to breathe. Closeness has to be like running water; it mustn't stagnate and sour.”

“I'm not running around the world looking for ways to create hostilities.”

“In high school, I had a gold 1992 Ford Explorer. It was a gift. I used to have a terrible habit of locking the keys in the car when I used leave the car running to help it start on a cold morning. I think the local locksmith became used to me calling him.”

“Just to brand somebody as actor and trivialize is wrong. I am running around in the heat, doing my work constantly.”

“I love being a running back. But I really love being a football player.”

“I started looking at small companies that were running a sort of virtual reality cottage industry: I had imagined that I would just put on a helmet and be somewhere else - that's your dream of what it's going to be.”

“When you have three teenage girls, and you're married 21 years, and have a mother who's blind in one eye and has dementia who lives with you, and your dad has worse dementia, and you're into metal, and your wife is born again, you're never running out of material.”

“I've had that recurring dream since I was a child, and a lot of people have different versions of that same dream, where you're running away from something, and it's going kind of slowly, but it's catching up with you, and it will not stop, and you cannot get away from it. Those dreams are manifested in different ways, but most people have them.”

“Intelligence...[is] not marathon rac[e]: there is no fixed criteria for success, no start or finish lines -- and running sideways or backwards, might secure victory.”

“When it begins it is like a light in a tunnel, a rush of steel andsteam across a torn up life. It is a low rumble, an earthquake in theback of the mind. My spine is a track with cold black steel racing onit, a trail of steam and dust following behind, ghost like. It feelslike my whole life is holding its breath.By the time she leaves the room I am surprised that she can’t see thetrain. It has jumped the track of my spine and landed in my mothers’living room. A cold dark thing, black steel and redwood paneling. Itis the old type, from the western movies I loved as a kid.He throws open the doors to the outside world, to the dark ocean. Ifeel a breeze tugging at me, a slender finger of wind that catches atmy shirt. Pulling. Grabbing. I can feel the panic build in me, theneed to scream or cry rising in my throat.And then I am out the door, running, tumbling down the steps fallingout into the darkened world, falling out into the lifeless ocean. Outinto the blackness. Out among the stars and shadows.And underneath my skin, in the back of my head and down the back of myspine I can feel the desperation and I can feel the noise. I can feelthe deep and ancient ache of loudness that litters across my bones.It’s like an old lover, comfortable and well known, but unwelcome andinappropriate with her stories of our frolicking.And then she’s gone and the Conductor is closing the door. Thedarkness swells around us, enveloping us in a cocoon, pressing flatagainst the train like a storm. I wonder, what is this place?Those had been heady days, full and intense. It’s funny. I rememberthe problems, the confusions and the fears of life we all dealt with.But, that all seems to fade. It all seems to be replaced by images ofthe days when it was all just okay. We all had plans back then,patterns in which we expected the world to fit, how it was to bedeciphered.Eventually you just can’t carry yourself any longer, can’t keep youreyelids open, and can’t focus on anything but the flickering light ofthe stars. Hours pass, at first slowly like a river and then all in arush, a climax and I am home in the dorm, waking up to the ringing ofthe telephone.When she is gone the apartment is silent, empty, almost like a personsleeping, waiting to wake up. When she is gone, and I am alone, I curlup on the bed, wait for the house to eject me from its dying corpse.Crazy thoughts cross through my head, like slants of light in anattic.The Boston 395 rocks a bit, a creaking noise spilling in from theundercarriage. I have decided that whatever this place is, all thesenoises, sensations - all the train-ness of this place - is afabrication. It lulls you into a sense of security, allows you to feelas if it’s a familiar place. But whatever it is, it’s not a train, orat least not just a train.The air, heightened, tense against the glass. I can hear the squeak ofshoes on linoleum, I can hear the soft rattle of a dying man’sbreathing. Men in white uniforms, sharp pressed lines, run past,rolling gurneys down florescent hallways.”

“When things start running a bit too well on the tracks, I tend to derail them if I can.”

“I don't want a little Oliver/Olivia parasite running about eating my biscuits. My friends, on the other hand, are procreating like humanity depends on it, and it doesn't.”

“Some girls are full of heartache and poetry and those are the kind of girls who try to save wolves instead of running away from them.”