Elizabeth Goudge Quotes
Only at the very center of pain or joy was one wholly wretched, wholly joyful. There was only one hour of the night in which sunset or dawn was not present to the mind in memory or hope, only one hour of the day when the sun seemed neither rising nor declining, and the intensity of those hours dulled and blinded.
Quotes to Explore
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Of course watching a particularly exciting game or a wonderful contestant is always a joy.
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When most people think of Woodrow Wilson, they see a dour minister's son who never cracked a smile, where in fact he was a man of genuine joy and great sadness.
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Be prepared, work hard, and hope for a little luck. Recognize that the harder you work and the better prepared you are, the more luck you might have.
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Literature is memory written down. All literature is memory.
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I actually hope people don't react to 'Impossible' in a way where they think it's terribly retro. The plot needed to do what it needed to do. But I'm a little surprised to find myself looking a little bit like an advocate of teen marriage. It takes some exceptional circumstances for that to be a reasonable idea.
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Little progress can be made by merely attempting to repress what is evil. Our great hope lies in developing what is good.
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Coach Lue always amazed me. I'm like, 'How do you have this much joy coming out of life? You have money, but you don't drink; you don't smoke. All you do is hoop, and you live on a natural high.' But now I know.
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If you do a good job for others, you heal yourself at the same time, because a dose of joy is a spiritual cure. It transcends all barriers.
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Beauty is the only thing that time cannot harm. Philosophies fall away like sand, creeds follow one another, but what is beautiful is a joy for all seasons, a possession for all eternity.
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I know I got to do something that's one in a million, to escape a refugee camp, to come to this country and have so many doors open for me. So I want to go back and make a difference and give motivation or hope to all the kids that never got to leave or have the privilege that I did.
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I sometimes wonder whether all pleasures are not substitutes for joy.
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I was always a fan of the old-style comics. I loved vaudeville. I loved Milton Berle, Dick Shawn, Phyllis Diller, Don Rickles, Charlie Callas, all those guys. Hilarious. I love the Bing Crosby and Bob Hope movies, and Abbott & Costello. My television influences were 'Monty Python's Flying Circus,' 'Benny Hill,' and 'Hee Haw.'
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We hope there is a sense of purpose in everything.
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People play with pain all the time.
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Wanda and Reliance are two of the largest private conglomerates in their respective countries. By joining our strengths together, we hope our cooperation will bring mutual benefits and great results.
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I hope you have not been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being really good all the time. That would be hypocrisy.
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If family violence teaches children that might makes right at home, how will we hope to cure the futile impulse to solve worldly conflicts with force?
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Who is the happiest of men? He who values the merits of others, And in their pleasure takes joy, even as though 'twere his own. Not in the morning alone, not only at mid-day he charmeth; Even at setting, the sun is still the same glorious planet.
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When there is no hope, one must invent hope.
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I actually hope people don't react to 'Impossible' in a way where they think it's terribly retro. The plot needed to do what it needed to do. But I'm a little surprised to find myself looking a little bit like an advocate of teen marriage. It takes some exceptional circumstances for that to be a reasonable idea.
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The real kiss of death - particularly with my father - is the extraordinary popularity of his work.
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Caen's San Francisco may not be the city we remember, but it is the city we want to remember.
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Try to be inspired by something every day. Try to inspire at least one person every day.
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Only at the very center of pain or joy was one wholly wretched, wholly joyful. There was only one hour of the night in which sunset or dawn was not present to the mind in memory or hope, only one hour of the day when the sun seemed neither rising nor declining, and the intensity of those hours dulled and blinded.
