Writers begin with a grain of sand, and then create a beach.

Are we etched in stone or just scratched in the sand Waiting for the waves to come and reclaim the land?tightrope – stone roses

I breathe in…the fragranceof love, and moist sandthe onehis roses lefton both my handsI just keep on breathingevery momentas much as I canpreserving it, in my bodyfor the dayit can’t.

When you draw a line in the sand, be careful it is not low tide.

When angels carry you they leave no footprints in the sand.

She wishes her grandmother had not been so protective, and that she understood better what passes between a man and woman. As it is, she simply enjoys the feelings and wonders if they are what...

The most mesmerizing of artists is always like one who was merely drawing in the sand and people came to watch.

Nothing like poetry when you lie awake at night. It keeps the old brain limber. It washes away the mud and sand that keeps on blocking up the bends.Like waves to make the pebbles dance...

I ignored your aura but it grabbed me by the hand, like the moon pulled the tide, and the tide pulled the sand.

If everyone could just live near the ocean, I think we’d all be happier. It’s hard to be down about anything knee deep in the sand.

If lighthouse becomes a burning candle, flickered upon ocean’s insanity.Your sailing heart there anchors to handle the obsessed breeze towards sand dune’s vanity.

We must remember that there is a great difference between a myth and a miracle. A myth is the idealization of a fact. A miracle is the counterfeit of a fact. There is the same...

Your dreams are your solid rock; all other dreams are sinking sands! Recreate Your World and I believe you can!

Just take my hand, lead, dance with me…and I will simply follow the blueness of the water, the white waves rolling free…where the earth beneath my feet and stars make my heart whole again…in long...

In your experiment on life and love, I was the price you paid…and the one whom you hurt…I was your lab rat and you injected me with rejection o see how you’d fair, but the...

There was an eerie quiet about last night, like death sleeping on the beach of Lake Erie. I woke up with sand in my shoes and tiny coffins on my feet.

nothing is lifelesswhen the moon writes its screedon the silvern sand silence-From the poem:”The Universe In Blossom

Everyone makes mistakes. If everyone fell into the sand after making a mistake we would never get anywhere. We’d all be washed away in the sea, lost forever. Do you understand?

The sand in the hourglass runs from one compartment to the other, marking the passage of moments with something constant and tangible.If you watch the flowing sand, you might see time itself riding the granules.Contrary...

It is not only the viability and variety of the seed that makes the harvest look plumpy. Sometimes, the soil must value the value of the seed. When the soil is not supportive, the seed’s...

You don’t need to be the tide to rise and fall, you don’t have to be a wave to touch the shore; just be a little sand-grain and feel them all

Sand in reality is nothing else than very small stones.

On Jesus’ rock, my life abounds; all other floors are slippery grounds. His love for me, is mercy band; any other love is sinking sand.

I took the life of the woman I was supposed to call mother in the process of being born… in order to become the world’s strongest shinobi… an incarnation of sand was implanted inside of...

When I opened my eyes I saw nothing but the pool of nocturnal sky, for I was lying on my back with out-stretched arms, face to face with that hatchery of stars. Only half awake,...

from RIVERMy body is filled with sand. The heavy grains flow from my eyes and seek somewhere to fall.Speak to me friends. Tell me I am free to go now, for I need to sit...

Individually, every grain of sand brushing against my hands represents a story, an experience, and a block for me to build upon for the next generation.

To transform a grimace into a sound sounds impossible, yet it is possible to transform a vision into music, to go outside an enslaved personality, to become impersonal by transforming into sand, into water, into...

We hit the sunny beaches where we occupy ourselves keeping the sun off our skin, the saltwater off our bodies, and the sand out of our belongings.

If you read fast and read all, maybe some of the sand will stay in the sieve.

The children had had an argument once about whether there was more grass in the world or more sand, and Roger said that of course there must be more sand because of under the sea;...

I can’t swim, and I actually hate sand.

I love like I’m thirsty. Can I offer you a tall glass of Sahara sand?