When I fell in love with hip-hop, there was a terminology at the time called "battling. " All that was just battling with other artists, but after Tupac and those incidents when it spilled into the street and turned into a negative situation, battling turned into a beef. A whole new dynamic.
The sun has just risen, weak and watery-looking, like it had just spilled itself over the horizon and is too lazy to clean itself up.
We’ve been filled with great treasure for one purpose: to be spilled.
The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.
[T]he House of Maidens was for little girls whose whole duty in life was to spill things, break things, and forget things. . . until they had spilled, broken, and forgotten everything they could, and thus made room in their lives for a little wisdom.
Don't cry over spilled milk
I don't need power at the cost of spilled blood.
Peace, above all things, is to be desired, but blood must sometimes be spilled to obtain it on equable and lasting terms.
When the Exxon Valdez spilled in 1989, I was angry. I even wrote on the back of my car, Boycott Exxon!
Relief spilled into me. He wanted to live. He just didn't know how.
Your husband is lazy if coffee doesn't keep him awake - even when it's hot and being spilled on him.
To live in Wales is to be conscious at dusk of the spilled blood that went into the making of the wild sky
Even more blood welled up and spilled down his arm, splattering onto the ground. “Camille’s carpet,” Magnus protested. “It’s blood,” said Will. “She ought to be thrilled.
We continue to be spilled on by consumerism even though we know it doesn't make us happy.
Romans park their cars the way I would park if I had just spilled a beaker of hydrochloric acid on my lap.
It's not always the easiest thing to be the center of so much spilled ink.
I wasn't a very good waitress, always spilling things on people and forgetting things. I once spilled ashes all over Mike Wallace's table.
As people strengthened their willpower muscles in one part of their lives—in the gym, or a money management program—that strength spilled over into what they ate or how hard they worked. Once willpower became stronger, it touched everything.
I looked at her, with her hair spilled out on the pillows and the warmth of her body warming mine. And I thought, god-dang, if this ain't a heck of a way to be in bed with a pretty woman. The two of you arguing about murder, and threatening each other, when you're supposed to be in love and you could be doing something pretty nice. And then I thought, well, maybe it ain't so strange after all. Maybe it's like this with most people, everyone doing pretty much the same thing except in a different way. And all the time they're holding heaven in their hands.
One objection I have heard voiced to works of this kinddealing with Texasis the amount of gore spilled across the pages. It can not be otherwise. In order to write a realistic and true history of any part of the Southwest, one must narrate such things, even at the risk of monotony.
