Wallace Stevens Quotes
Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings Of those white elders; but, escaping, Left only Death's ironic scraping. Now, in its immortality, it plays On the clear viol of her memory, And makes a constant sacrament of praise.
Wallace Stevens
Quotes to Explore
I'm a plodder, one foot in front of the other. Life is all about understanding that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And it's your ability with how you deal with that adversity that ultimately affects your success.
Gary Johnson
I've been on a tweeting mission.
Gabby Douglas
I live in England, so I take a lot of trains, and you can't really go anywhere without somebody talking on their mobile phone behind you, forcing you to listen to their conversation. With the Internet, with texting, with networking sites, there's already information everywhere.
Patrick Ness
I really saw myself as the quintessential Cinderella. I think that's when I really thought about how I wanted to do something else and get away from all that.
Madonna
Breakfast Club
There are people who, if they see something in couture that they perceive as ready-to-wear, they're in shock.
Raf Simons
It is tough to say what has influenced me the most because I know that Mozart makes me think better, but you cannot beat Dave Matthews for feeling good!
Mackenzie Astin
But in those days - in the mid-'50s, early '60s - there was less than 300 radio stations that were playing country music and a lot of that wasn't full time.
Mel Tillis
Sweet music, and your secret heart. Both have the healing grace.
John Roy Anderson
Yes
When we were on the farm, we were isolated, not just by geography but by the primitive living conditions: no electricity, no running water and, of course, no computer, no phone.
Sally Mann
If people want to talk about anything I do, they can give it any name they want. As long as they're talking about it, I think it's great.
Katie Aselton
Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings Of those white elders; but, escaping, Left only Death's ironic scraping. Now, in its immortality, it plays On the clear viol of her memory, And makes a constant sacrament of praise.
Wallace Stevens