Ball Bestehen / Pass Gehen / Going Hände / Hands Nächster / Next Woher / Where
If we'd know we were going to be the Beatles, we'd have tried harder.
Rachmaninov's hands were big. My hands are small. But only hands small.
The ball whizzes past like a bumblebee and the Indians are in the sea.
At least I'm going into the job with clean hands.
I don't want to go bald, I don't know what's coming up next.
I do believe that God has his hands on me and that he has work for me to do.
I know my swing is going to be there. I don't need 600 swings in the cage; I know where it's at.
It's fascinating to be in a place where no one has ever heard of me.
I can't imagine not coming back to the theater. It's where I started.
