Friedrich Nietzsche Quotes
Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.
Friedrich Nietzsche
Quotes to Explore
Vulnerability is huge. I love to see that in characters. It's something I feel like a lot of my comedic heroes have always done.
Ed Helms
This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Music, first of all, is completely about abstraction, which is exactly what architecture is not. In a way, it has been incredibly constructive to know what true abstraction is. So you don't fall into the trap of thinking that what you do is abstract.
Rafael Vinoly
I would like to spend Christmas in different countries all over the world. I love seeing how different cultures celebrate the holidays in their own unique ways.
Mallory Jansen
I think that most people don't even know that I do other things. They think that Homer is all that I do.
Dan Castellaneta
I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul.
Victor Hugo
I sort of love reading the scripts and going, 'Oh wow, what a great idea. I never would have thought of that.'
Edie Falco
What appears in newspapers is often new but seldom true.
Patrick Kavanagh
I think there is a moment in every parent's life where we realize that we have lost ourselves a little bit. It's a moment of looking in the mirror and going, 'I need to put on some lipstick.
Antonia Eugenia Vardalos
When we tune in to an especially human way of viewing the landscape powerfully, it resonates with an audience.
Galen Rowell
Cowboys that's American, it means boys who milk the cow - call them 'Stockmen'.
R. M. Williams
Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.
Friedrich Nietzsche
