Take off your bedroom slippers. Put on your marching shoes ' he said his voice rising as applause and cheers mounted. 'Shake it off. Stop complainin'. Stop grumblin'. Stop cryin'. We are going to press on. We have work to do.

One of the good things about the way the Gulf War ended in 1991 is you'd see the Vietnam veterans marching with the Gulf War veterans.

I had a teacher in art school who said something about the only works he really enjoyed seeing or found much in were works where he had a sense that a discovery was made in the course of making this object. I like to hold to that as my marching orders.

Life is a series of experiences each one of which makes us bigger even though sometimes it is hard to realize this. For the world was built to develop character and we must learn that the setbacks and grieves which we endure help us in our marching onward.

Everything was going my way. I was happily marching into the history books. Then it all just fell apart.

Whether things turn out for the better depends on what we do. We ought not spend our time masterminding the future but recognize our marching orders: to do the best we can for history and the planet.

Up against the corporate government voters find themselves asked to choose between look-alike candidates from two parties vying to see who takes the marching orders from their campaign paymasters and their future employers. The money of vested interest nullifies genuine voter choice and trust.

We were marching since we were babies and all we did was make Jane Fonda famous.

Big companies are like marching bands. Even if half the band is playing random notes it still sounds kind of like music. The concealment of failure is built into them.

With Michigan's economic future on the line we can't afford to have our 500 local school districts marching in different directions. Instead we need a high standards mandatory curriculum to get all our students on the road to higher education and a good paying job.

That is the great mistake about the affections. It is not the rise and fall of empires the birth and death of kings or the marching of armies that move them most. When they answer from their depths it is to the domestic joys and tragedies of life.

Gradually I became aware of details: a company of French soldiers was marching through the streets of the town. They broke formation and went in single file along the communication trench leading to the front line. Another group followed them.