Enoch Powell Quotes
While yesteryear I tarriedIn a garden in the south,I met a youth who carriedA rose-bud in his mouth.I gave him chase and caught him,And would not set him free,But held him and besought himTo give the flower to me.He smiled, and broke a petalAnd laid it in my hand-It seared like molten metal,And here is yet the brand.
Enoch Powell
Quotes to Explore
In plotting a book, my goal is to raise the stakes for the characters and, in so doing, keep the reader mesmerized.
Barbara Delinsky
I don't want to be 'Halsey: America's Sweetheart,' or 'Halsey: Bad Girl.' If you can sum up my career in a clickbait headline, I've done something wrong.
Halsey
It seems to me that politicians ought to use the same words as other people.
Barney Frank
Throughout my whole swimming career, I've never been disqualified once. I've never been warned once.
Cameron van der Burgh
It was not until I was in my forties, in the fifth decade of my life, that the sense of place, the spirit of place, became of paramount importance to me. It was then that I began my travels, that I discovered, through photography, the quality of light, and that I gradually became able to paint the mood of place.
Barbara Cooney
One good thing is I was instilled with really good values. My mom treats everyone the same.
Carlene Carter
A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them.
Liberty Hyde Bailey
On the one hand, faith is a profoundly personal contact with God, which touches me in my innermost being and places me in front of the living God in absolute immediacy in such a way that I can speak with Him, love Him, and enter into communion with Him.
Pope Benedict XVI
Sometimes when I'm reading a script, I can't quite believe that this is going on television alongside cereal commercials.
Marti Noxon
Lord, let me not live to be useless!
John Wesley
While yesteryear I tarriedIn a garden in the south,I met a youth who carriedA rose-bud in his mouth.I gave him chase and caught him,And would not set him free,But held him and besought himTo give the flower to me.He smiled, and broke a petalAnd laid it in my hand-It seared like molten metal,And here is yet the brand.
Enoch Powell
