I chose biochemistry as my major and graduated after 4 years with an Honours degree in Biochemistry. During that time, I had come to love biochemistry research, although I was just getting my feet wet in laboratory research.
There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the fault of his feet.
Four hoarse blasts of a ship's whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tapping.
My feet are not a good part of my body. They definitely have suffered for my art. They're, like, all bunions and blisters.
It seems like the studios are either making giant blockbusters, or really super-small indies. And the mid-level films I grew up on, like 'Back to the Future' and all those John Hughes movies, the studios aren't doing. It's hard to get them on their feet.
I had the blues because I had no shoes until upon the street, I met a man who had no feet.
People are crying up the rich and variegated plumage of the peacock, and he is himself blushing at the sight of his ugly feet.
I don't have feeling in my feet to my fingertips; I also have active lesions in my bone marrow and in my eyes.
The fact is that the British Museum had a complete specimen of a dodo in their collection up until the 18th century - it was actually mummified, skin and all - but in a fit of space-saving zeal, they actually cut off the head and they cut off the feet and they burned the rest in a bonfire.
I was a big fan of 'Six Feet Under.' So, I got a bootleg copy of the first four episodes on videotape, watched them and was instantly into it. During the first episode, I was like, 'Eh.' By the time I got to the second one, I couldn't watch them fast enough. I got on the phone that night, called Time Warner cable and ordered HBO right then.
I was a fan of 'Six Feet Under' and was very sad when it ended, so I was not ready to switch my allegiance to another show. So I was like, 'I'm not watching this 'True Blood.' Then a friend got a bootleg copy of the first four episodes, and by the third one, I was irrevocably hooked.
I headed out to have a breather at the stage door, dressed in my tramp costume. I had my bowler hat between my feet and there were passers-by, and one of them turned back and said, 'Do you need help, brother?' And $1 fell into my hat!
Scouting teaches a boy to take care of himself and stand on his own two feet.
The earth's crust has not yet stopped heaving and plunging under our feet. Mountain ranges are still being thrust up on the horizon. Granites are still growing under the continental masses. Nor has the organic world ceased to produce new buds at the tips of its countless branches.
If I dream that I'm directing, it's not a film, it's like a commercial for cotton candy, and I've got four feet of cotton candy all around me that I've got to break through, like a brick wall or a fortress.
I have gotten into a lot of trouble in my life for being brutally honest. Sometimes I put both my feet in my mouth. But like Elton John, I'm still standing.
I can well conceive a man without hands, feet, head. But I cannot conceive man without thought; he would be a stone or a brute.
The civilized man has built a coach, but has lost the use of his feet.
Ah, the patter of little feet around the house. There's nothing like having a midget for a butler.
Today, youths say 'Hi and Bye' even to their parents. Instead, they should touch parents' feet as a mark of respect.
