trash

There are so many problems to solve on this planet first before we begin to trash other worlds.

The only time they ever throw anything away is when it's really and truly broken, and then they make a big deal about it. They save up all their bent pins and broken sewing needles and once a year they do a whole memorial service for them, chanting and then sticking them into a block of tofu so they will have a nice soft place to rest. Jiko says that everything has a spirit, even if it is old and useless, and we must console and honor the things that have served us well.

People's curses will become your clue to win. The trash they think you have will become the treasure for greatness they will plead to enjoy! You will understand this better by and by!

When someone you love makes compassion, kindness, forgiveness, respect and God an option, you can be sure they have made you an option, as well.

What do you mean? In Old Castle? I still live with my parents in case you haven__ noticed, Jack. Those two strangers _ that man and woman sitting on my sofa _ are actually my parents. Oh, you mean your place? Yes, let__ evict your parents_let__ place them neatly in a cardboard box and leave it by the rubbish bins!

A fine glass vase goes from treasure to trash, the moment it is broken. Fortunately, something else happens to you and me. Pick up your pieces. Then, help me gather mine.

She is a great gobbler of books, but reads only trash, memorizing nothing and leaving out the longer descriptions.

The future is trash. Recycling it, re-arranging it. Making it beautiful again.

They lived off each other's hypocrisy, fuelling a worthless market of trash.

Good people who are always silent for bad people to gain freedom and do their worsts are the most dangerous wastes the world ever has.

Marriage is not just spiritual communion, it is also remembering to take out the trash.

On my 50th birthday in 2005, my discount-wielding AARP card came in the mail. I hurled it in the trash, put on something fabulous, and had a decadent meal. Just the thought of putting it in my wallet felt like a concession.

I've never believed that pop music is escapist trash. There's always a darkness in it, even amidst great pop music.

I have a cycle that is not particularly cool, but it's a cycle: trash myself to reward myself.

I'm not a trash talker. I respect my opponents.

Ours is a culture and a time immensely rich in trash as it is in treasures.

All my friends are bums. We all gather round our camp-fire (in a can) and sing songs of togetherness as we cuddle, to preserve our warmth...

You're one to talk about talking crap, Forester." Dunstan's voice interrupts the memory, and I can't help but feel a little grateful. "Accusing my dad of poisoning the swamp? What a bunch of bull.""It's not bull,"I snarl. "Your dad's dumping trash into the swamp and you know it!"Dunstan finally loses it and stands up. The boat tilts dangerously. Melanie and the twins shriek, grasping the sides like they're glued to them."You two sit down this minute!" Babette bellows. She's holding onto the motor for dear life. Neither of us listens."You wanna run that by me again?" Dunstan growls. His fingers curl into fists."Your. Dad. Is. Poisoning. The. Swamp." I let each word out slowly like Dunstan's a dumb little kid who needs help understanding.