John Buchan Quotes
The clean delicate lines of her figure, the exquisite pure colouring of hair and skin, the charming young arrogance of the eyes - this was beauty, he reflected, a miracle, a revelation. Her virginal fineness and her dress, which was the tint of pale fire, gave her the air of a creature of ice and flame.
Quotes to Explore
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Twitter, Facebook are so different from where I began. It's like a fire that takes off... I'm reading everybody's Twitter.
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My singing is part of me, like my stoutness, or my light hair, or my poor eyesight.
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Lexington did launch its air group when a Japanese carrier was reported.
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On the last morning of Virginia's bloodiest year since the Civil War, I built a fire and sat facing a window of darkness where at sunrise I knew I would find the sea.
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Really hairy backs on men turn me off. I'm not into the ape thing at all. Or beer bellies and flabby arms, either. Also, one random nose hair which is longer than the others... that's gross.
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I was singing in a mall, and I picked a girl to come up onstage with me. As I was grabbing her hand, I fell off the stage. It felt like I was in the air forever, flying like Superman.
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Back in the really olden days, dinner was seldom a ceremonial event for U.S. families. Only the very wealthy had a separate dining room. For most, meals were informal, a kind of rolling refueling; often only the men sat down.
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It is a true miracle when a man finally sees himself as his only opposition.
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Well I could have been just a writer. I had been a hair dresser. I could have stuck with that.
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In the matter of justice, all should be equal in your eyes.
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Good fiction creates empathy. A novel takes you somewhere and asks you to look through the eyes of another person, to live another life.
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I do like my hair. It took a while to come around to the fact that it was quite a unique value point.
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I think there's a perception out there that people know me based on these glamorous photos they see of me in magazines, but I have about two hours of hair and makeup and then people to dress me, to make me look even better, in those pictures.
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There are two smells that I can recognize right away. The smell of the boxing ring and the smell of a garage. That's where I grew up. I can recognize these places with my eyes closed.
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Time dissolves in summer anyway: days are long, weekends longer. Hours get all thin and watery when you are lost in the book you'd never otherwise have time to read. Senses are sharper - something about the moist air and bright light and fruit in season - and so memories stir and startle.
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A hair divides what is false and true.
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'Lost' seems to be the inverse of 'Air': It explores dispossession and identity by forcing a bunch of people into one invented landscape instead of using many invented landscapes to keep people apart.
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I always had a short bob with bangs, and I hated it. My mum would always say, 'A short hair cut is always the way to go for you.' I had it for fourteen years!
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Loving is a journey with water and with stars, with smothered air and abrupt storms of flour: loving is a clash of lightning-bolts and two bodies defeated by a single drop of honey.
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There isn't anything in the world that can't be made better.
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A bigot is simply a sociologist without credentials.
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I don't want to be an art-house movie guy, where people who go to film school can discuss your work, but people who haven't studied cinema can't appreciate it. By the same token, I don't want to be the guy who's making this commercial pap that people lap up but that disappears the minute you leave the theater.
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The clean delicate lines of her figure, the exquisite pure colouring of hair and skin, the charming young arrogance of the eyes - this was beauty, he reflected, a miracle, a revelation. Her virginal fineness and her dress, which was the tint of pale fire, gave her the air of a creature of ice and flame.
