There are musical measures, cooking measures, length measures, weight measures, and a lot of other measures. i measured the length of my mustache yesterday…. it was 5 inches long!! Take THAT mom!!! I knew i would beat you someday!!
Combine…
Half-cup SUGAR
Tablespoon CAYENNE
Tablespoon PEPPER
Tablespoon SALT
Tablespoon ITALIAN SEASONING.
Heat one bag PRE-COOKED CHICKEN.
Boil four packages NOODLES.
Cover chicken in spice mixture and four carefully measured splops of PEANUT BUTTER. Drizzle with BUFFALO SAUCE. Continue heating until peanut butter melts. Serve chicken over noodles. Share with roommates who like spicy food.
Emma measured the thread and then clipped it with Mother’s silver scissors. Sewing was beautiful… of course it was. Mother had been the one to teach her how. That makes everything beautiful.
It quite strange the way life is measured by people. Is it the days you’ve spent. Or the memories you’ve collected.
Hard times come and go but leave behind strength.
everything is measured.
your time is measured.
your life.
your attractiveness is measured in likes on facebook.
and your mind is measured on the SAT’s.
its like a constant competition.
always weighing variables.
I measured her booty. It was something. people measure things in life that are worth measuring. However, things that aren’t worth measuring are measured more often. Life is measured but by your good deeds.
Everything can be measured. Everything IS measured, whether we like it or not. Weight, distance, heartbreak. Everything, whether we like it or not, is put against a scale, given a value.
The road was long. It had dusty sand and fallen trees on the sides, and it went went on into the horizon. I couldn’t measure how long it take to cross it. I tilted my head and looked behind me, but there was no turning back, I had to go one. I could see the heat on the gravel path, and took a deep breath and walked. My time was short, and was measured by the second.
Life should not be measure with how many days you lived or how many years you spent. Life should rather be measured with how many moments you lived. How many smiles did you manage to bring to others faces. Life is short just go and live it – each day, each minute, each second of it :)
he measured from the top of the head to the tips of his toes, six foot eight inches, he’d wear his blue suit with the red bow tie, it matched the lining of the coffin
How do you measure love? Is it how much trust you have, how happy you are, how you get along, how you deal with distance, silence, money, honesty…. how, how, how? Maybe it’s those little things, like when he smiles as you laugh, or when he gives you those coy, little looks when you’re all hanging out together. Can someone tell me how?
to be taken and placed against a scale. such an arbitrary thing, purely of human invention. what does the eagle know of the miles it flies over? what does the lion know of the weight of the zebra it brings down?
I believe the idea that a measured approach was the best way to handle the situation that was facing us as we were force to evacuate the building. It appear that is might be damage,by the earth tremor that occour over the week end.
Happiness and sadness should be in measured amounts. Too much of anything is a bad thing. But what is measured what is not how do we know? Perhaps measured means keeping the balance. If there is a lot of one thing one needs to offset it with another thing.
In school you can measure things in inches and meters, but what does that count for? You can’t measure pain. You can’t measure love. What’s the point of trying to keep track at all?
Color grey
The city is bringing me down
Measured with money
The city is bringing me down
I will not pay this price
and even walking you can see it
and smell the lost ambition
To measure an amount of something, whether it be flour or how much someone loves you. Measuring is used in all aspects of a persons life. Measuring is used to determine if someone is crazy or if you used too much sugar. To be measured is from the perspective of that item or thing being measured.
“Chelsea,” her grandfather said as he wheezed his last breaths. “When measuring your life, you first need to decide if the cup is half full or half empty.”
She measures her life in self-worth. When it boils down to the choice of being loved and respected, she chooses the latter. She dislikes the implications of loved: of being inferior, of being coddled, of being viewed as a trophy wife. Society has enforced these chauvinistic viewpoints on her and she does not choose it simply to defy them. Instead, she throws herself into her work, ironically still abiding by society’s measure of self-worth.
He measured the weight around my finger. the exact measurements of the width at each point. He felt the bones, the callouses and even the creases of skin folds around my fourth finger.
I was so immersed, i didn’t notice him slip on the intricate diamond hoop.
Measured? Well, measurements are a fallacy. You can’t measure anything, emotions, objects, time. It is all irrelevant when it comes to the fact no one is the same, and perception is key. Don’t try to measure.
The cloth was laid out, and the length measured carefully. Patiently, slowly, I sewed it taking as much care as possible. It didn’t damn well matter, the hem of the pants was still three inches too high. “Happy Birthday!” I said, as I gave them to my mother with pride
Measure for Measure: the Shakespeare play I just saw my cousin in. So wonderful to see her doing what she loves. Nostalgia of not being involved in something like that anymore. And here I go again–late night sadness paired with acoustic music. Funny how this has become a pattern
Except not funny, really. Not funny at all.
Not sure how I became so dependent on one person so quickly. I guess I’m more open than I think I am; I allow myself to be quite vulnerable with others
last week we measured some rope for our rope ladder that we would put on our treehouse.
There are musical measures, cooking measures, length measures, weight measures, and a lot of other measures. i measured the length of my mustache yesterday…. it was 5 inches long!! Take THAT mom!!! I knew i would beat you someday!!
the teachers in our school are measured in our preformance
we measured each others height.
Measured is when you find how long something is.
i measured the snow fall from a few days ago……. it wasn’t much at all./
I measured how tall my friend was.
I measured the height of a building.
Not measured. At all. Drinking all the time, spending time, procrastinating. And then… Relief. And then guilt. And then improvement. Basically.
She took long, measured breaths as she struggled up the incline. She could almost feel the beast’s rotten exhales on the back of her neck.
Last night in the kitchen:
Combine…
Half-cup SUGAR
Tablespoon CAYENNE
Tablespoon PEPPER
Tablespoon SALT
Tablespoon ITALIAN SEASONING.
Heat one bag PRE-COOKED CHICKEN.
Boil four packages NOODLES.
Cover chicken in spice mixture and four carefully measured splops of PEANUT BUTTER. Drizzle with BUFFALO SAUCE. Continue heating until peanut butter melts. Serve chicken over noodles. Share with roommates who like spicy food.
Emma measured the thread and then clipped it with Mother’s silver scissors. Sewing was beautiful… of course it was. Mother had been the one to teach her how. That makes everything beautiful.
He had barely measure the distance between them when she got up and walked backwards out the door.
I measured my life against yours but came up short.
It quite strange the way life is measured by people. Is it the days you’ve spent. Or the memories you’ve collected.
Hard times come and go but leave behind strength.
everything is measured.
your time is measured.
your life.
your attractiveness is measured in likes on facebook.
and your mind is measured on the SAT’s.
its like a constant competition.
always weighing variables.
I measured her booty. It was something. people measure things in life that are worth measuring. However, things that aren’t worth measuring are measured more often. Life is measured but by your good deeds.
Everything can be measured. Everything IS measured, whether we like it or not. Weight, distance, heartbreak. Everything, whether we like it or not, is put against a scale, given a value.
measured in time, measured temper, measured impulse. measured
The road was long. It had dusty sand and fallen trees on the sides, and it went went on into the horizon. I couldn’t measure how long it take to cross it. I tilted my head and looked behind me, but there was no turning back, I had to go one. I could see the heat on the gravel path, and took a deep breath and walked. My time was short, and was measured by the second.
Life should not be measure with how many days you lived or how many years you spent. Life should rather be measured with how many moments you lived. How many smiles did you manage to bring to others faces. Life is short just go and live it – each day, each minute, each second of it :)
Time might be measured in hours and minutes and seconds but I can’t measure my love for you in whatever unit I know.
he measured from the top of the head to the tips of his toes, six foot eight inches, he’d wear his blue suit with the red bow tie, it matched the lining of the coffin
How do you measure love? Is it how much trust you have, how happy you are, how you get along, how you deal with distance, silence, money, honesty…. how, how, how? Maybe it’s those little things, like when he smiles as you laugh, or when he gives you those coy, little looks when you’re all hanging out together. Can someone tell me how?
to be taken and placed against a scale. such an arbitrary thing, purely of human invention. what does the eagle know of the miles it flies over? what does the lion know of the weight of the zebra it brings down?
I believe the idea that a measured approach was the best way to handle the situation that was facing us as we were force to evacuate the building. It appear that is might be damage,by the earth tremor that occour over the week end.
Happiness and sadness should be in measured amounts. Too much of anything is a bad thing. But what is measured what is not how do we know? Perhaps measured means keeping the balance. If there is a lot of one thing one needs to offset it with another thing.
In school you can measure things in inches and meters, but what does that count for? You can’t measure pain. You can’t measure love. What’s the point of trying to keep track at all?
to measure is always to limit, which is most of the time something negative.
Color grey
The city is bringing me down
Measured with money
The city is bringing me down
I will not pay this price
and even walking you can see it
and smell the lost ambition
To measure an amount of something, whether it be flour or how much someone loves you. Measuring is used in all aspects of a persons life. Measuring is used to determine if someone is crazy or if you used too much sugar. To be measured is from the perspective of that item or thing being measured.
Measured.
“Chelsea,” her grandfather said as he wheezed his last breaths. “When measuring your life, you first need to decide if the cup is half full or half empty.”
She measures her life in self-worth. When it boils down to the choice of being loved and respected, she chooses the latter. She dislikes the implications of loved: of being inferior, of being coddled, of being viewed as a trophy wife. Society has enforced these chauvinistic viewpoints on her and she does not choose it simply to defy them. Instead, she throws herself into her work, ironically still abiding by society’s measure of self-worth.
He measured the weight around my finger. the exact measurements of the width at each point. He felt the bones, the callouses and even the creases of skin folds around my fourth finger.
I was so immersed, i didn’t notice him slip on the intricate diamond hoop.
the past tense of the word “measure”
to have measured
“you have been measured, and have been found wanting”
Measured? Well, measurements are a fallacy. You can’t measure anything, emotions, objects, time. It is all irrelevant when it comes to the fact no one is the same, and perception is key. Don’t try to measure.
When someone is better than you at something and everyone knows they are.
You measured me, up and down your eyes went. You measured me with your eyes, me, entirely. You don’t love this.
The cloth was laid out, and the length measured carefully. Patiently, slowly, I sewed it taking as much care as possible. It didn’t damn well matter, the hem of the pants was still three inches too high. “Happy Birthday!” I said, as I gave them to my mother with pride
Measure for Measure: the Shakespeare play I just saw my cousin in. So wonderful to see her doing what she loves. Nostalgia of not being involved in something like that anymore. And here I go again–late night sadness paired with acoustic music. Funny how this has become a pattern
Except not funny, really. Not funny at all.
Not sure how I became so dependent on one person so quickly. I guess I’m more open than I think I am; I allow myself to be quite vulnerable with others