Yevgeny Zamyatin Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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I'm just taking one step at a time. I could zigzag one way, but it's not usually on purpose.
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No one ever chats me up; I think they all think I'm taken. Either that or no one fancies me.
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Theater is there to search for questions. It doesn't give you instructions.
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Convince me, but without convictions. Convictions no longer convince me.
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The truth is I was nicely brought up and taught not to show my rage even though it was building up inside.
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We're doing what we want to do, playing what we want to play, we're looking like we want to look, we're saying what we want to say. In rock that's done a lot, but in country it's not.
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Oh, so they have internet on computers now!
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I hate to ask about the title, because it makes it seem like that is all I've read of the book.
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That faeries have forgotten the Tapestry; that is the greatest tragedy of all. It's the fabric of all creation and it's woven of dreams, the dreams of the Djinn. Dreams are real, Magpie. They're seed and water and sun. They're everything.
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Everybody matters. Everyone just wants to be heard.
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If you look at where presidents come from, they're former governors or senators.
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Governments move armies, but only individuals can move hearts.
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It was a show. Everyone played their parts masterfully.
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A willing heart is the first step in finding God's will in our lives. We cannot expect God to force us or to plead with us about the calling in our lives.
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The story of the Western world since 1945 is that, invited to choose between freedom and government 'security,' large numbers of people vote to dump freedom every time - the freedom to make your own decisions about health care, education, property rights, and a ton of other stuff.
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It's becoming more and more the choice to feed starving countries.
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The cool thing about doing a play is that the final interpretation of a piece is turned over to the actors.
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I don't like the current political system in the USA and some other countries. Increasingly democracy has been hijacked by corporate interests.
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From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, The hum of either army stilly sounds, That the fixed sentinels almost receive The secret whispers of each other's watch. Fire answers fire, and through their play flames Each battle sees the other's umbered face. Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents The armorers accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation.
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There is no final one; revolutions are infinite.
