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
Love isn't an emotion or an instinct - it's an art.
Mae West
Thank God I'm in touch with my emotions enough to be able to pick up my children, kiss them all over and say 'I love you' over and over.
Kate Winslet
I grew up sailing in the North Sea.
Laura Dekker
The liberal feminist movement never imagined that women would take seriously the encouragement to become our own heroes and claim life for ourselves, on our terms, no matter who we are. Pro-choice and pro-life, Christian and not, poor and rich, black, white, gay and straight. It is a dream we all hold dear, and it's called the Tea Party.
Tammy Bruce
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
