Derek Walcott Quotes
All of the Antilles, every island, is an effort of memory: every mind, every racial biography culminating in amnesia and fog. Pieces of sunlight through the fog and sudden rainbows, arcs-en-ciel. That is the effort, the labour of the Antillean imagination, rebuilding its gods from bamboo frames, phrase by phrase.
Quotes to Explore
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'Heroes' really changed the game for me in a way that nothing before it had.
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There has to be so many other ways of approaching airline security than demeaning ourselves by giving up a lot of our dignities and our liberty to do this.
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The goal seems to me at times just to be business first.
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Every artist says that he/she wants to do something challenging, and I'm not any different. If someone approaches me with a serious role, I'll be more than happy.
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I really do hope that the Millennium Summit gives new impetus to the work of the United Nations.
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Part of the reason I sort of shot out like a cannon out of Michigan and left home at such an early age is because I had to feel independent.
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I don't understand why there aren't more powerful female directors. I don't have the answers, but I hope that things may start to shift and that studios will employ more women to handle strong and interesting material.
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Beware of the naked man who offers you his shirt.
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I rarely think about myself that much. I really don't.
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I'm really anti-option, so computers have been my nightmare with recording. I don't want endless tracks; I want less tracks. I want decisions to be made.
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I feel like I'm five sometimes because I still enjoy myself. I enjoy what I do.
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I was the kind of child who worked hard every day with the cows and sheep - I was a very aggressive boy.
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In 1990, when I had just arrived in New York City as a wet-behind-the-ears 20-something girl from Arizona, I spent a year or more working as the personal secretary and secret ghostwriter to an American-born countess in her apartment on the Upper East Side.
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Medical decisions have been politicized. What doctor wants a state legislator in his consulting room?
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I've had confidence in myself all along. It was just a matter of getting the pieces back in place.
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It's a shame when other people's gambling habits change the meaning of paintings or when fluctuations of value start to dictate how people perceive art because it's too expensive to be interesting or moving. That's when I get bummed out.
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I have a terrible tendency to lick my fingers when I cook. So much so that I got a telling off from my pastry teacher years ago, who said it would hinder my prospects.
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If I'm extremely bored and I don't have a book with me and I'm being an obnoxious teenager, I'll read 'BuzzFeed' on my phone. But even that just leaves me feeling icky because I think for some reason my comfort zone is to just not really be in the loop about stuff like awards shows or things like that.
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Some of those more out-there jokes were written in the wee hours of the morning. Somehow, they remained funny the next day.
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I'm working on my music a lot, like folk singing, guitar. It's sort of rocky, folky, alty, angsty. I'm putting a lot of energy into that. I write pretty much all the time.
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My hand still shakes when I sign autographs. I still go and sit in the movies like everyone else and look up there and go 'God! Movie stars! Wow!' And I'm in this business. I walk out there just fascinated, and I always want to stay like that. I'm just a little kid going to these movies, and I don't ever want to change.
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The language of judicial decision is mainly the language of logic. And the logical method and form flatter that longing for certainty and for repose which is in every human mind. But certainty generally is illusion, and repose is not the destiny of man.
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In the chilly hours and minutes Of uncertainty I want to be In the warm hold of your lovin' mind. To feel you all around me And to take your hand Along the sand, Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind.
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All of the Antilles, every island, is an effort of memory: every mind, every racial biography culminating in amnesia and fog. Pieces of sunlight through the fog and sudden rainbows, arcs-en-ciel. That is the effort, the labour of the Antillean imagination, rebuilding its gods from bamboo frames, phrase by phrase.
