I run about four to five miles, three days a week. I have four young children, so pretty much the only time I can get away is real early in the morning.

Love stories are written in millimeters and milliseconds with a fast, dull pencil whose marks you can barely see, they are written in miles and eons with a chisel on the side of a mountaintop

I have miles to go before I sleep.

There is never any traffic jam along the extra mile.

Our souls speak from across the miles, intertwined, you and I.

If you are the best, you must go that extra mile.

Every mile is two in winter.

You live but once; you might as well be amusing.

You have just dined, and however scrupulously the slaughterhouse is concealed in the graceful distance of miles, there is complicity.

Objectives can be compared to a compass bearing by which a ship navigates. A compass bearing is firm, but in actual navigation, a ship may veer off its course for many miles. Without a compass bearing, a ship would neither find its port nor be able to estimate the time required to get there.

Some people cannot see a good thing when it is right here, right now. Others can sense a good thing coming when it is days, months, or miles away.

That’s the great thing about today, having smartphones to stay in touch and share experiences. Knowing that whilst there may be thousands of miles between you, it’s almost like they’re there. That’s the coolest thing, and that’s how I stay in touch with the people that are important to me.