John Crowley Quotes
Sophie's hard first question to the cards had not, precisely, gone without an answer, it had been transmuted into questions about the question. It had branched and rooted like a tree, growing questions like buds, and then at some moment all the questions had become one question: what tree is this?
Quotes to Explore
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There is something fascinating about every human being. The question is how much they're willing to divulge.
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ArcGIS is an integrated Web GIS that is supported by services. These are abstracted in a geoinformation model that's managed by the portal, and then accessible by a number of apps, which are the growing part of this system.
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Growing hemp as nature designed it is vital to our urgent need to reduce greenhouse gases and ensure the survival of our planet.
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I still call Texas home. It is where I spent most of my life growing up.
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Nobody wants to be against technology, but I think that regulators should not - and people should not - assume that faster is always better in markets. We need to question technology to insure that markets continue to perform their fundamental purposes.
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I see the demographics increasing, and by that I mean the notion of social acceptance is growing, not decreasing; I think the notion of fiscal responsibility is growing, not decreasing. And Republicans seem to be moving further away from those two categories than closer.
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The Internet is changing what entertainment and sports is. It's not just a few people authoring an experience for others. It's really growing out of what everybody does.
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Above and beyond drawing my creations, I try to incorporate some kind of message. I try not to end as merely a question but try to provide a conclusion within the work.
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Many young adults I have communicated with - both in-person and over email - constantly apologize before stating their idea, or finish each sentence with a question. Unfortunately, doing so in business puts you at an immediate disadvantage with your boss and work colleagues.
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Thus in such a Labour Party there can be no question of independent policy.
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I grew up with three little brothers. Every Christmas, we'd have piles of toy trucks and Lincoln Logs and G.I. Joes under the tree. Those were for them. For me? My No. 1 favorite present of all time: books. Two or three tall stacks of wonderful stories that I could lose myself in for weeks.
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You can't hate the roots of a tree and not hate the tree. You can't hate Africa and not hate yourself.
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The rewards of the wild and the rewards of the survivor go to those who can dig deep, and, ultimately, to the guy who can stay alive.
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For your information, I would like to ask a question.
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You have to do your own growing no matter how tall your grandfather was.
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Growing up in eastern Turkey, I was not really involved with the family business - sheep and cow farming, yogurt and cheese making. But I think I learned from my father the unspoken business language or instincts that go back thousands of years.
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A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.
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Is life worth living? This is a question for an embryo not for a man.
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I do not shake hands from a sanitary standpoint.
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There's a bunch of plays that I never got to do because I was either too young or too old for the parts, like 'Slow Dance on the Killing Ground' and 'Dutchman.' For 'American Buffalo,' I was the wrong color.
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My first three novels were all the subjects of intensely exciting flurries of calls from producers and even stars' production companies, and once someone actually hired a screenwriter to adapt one of my books - but it all came to nothing, so I tried not to get too excited when a Hollywood suitor came calling for 'Admission,' my fourth novel.
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Back then I said to myself 'screw football.' Actually I just took part in this camp as there was nothing better for me to do. They also didn't draft me because they thought I was too wild and undisciplined.
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Sophie's hard first question to the cards had not, precisely, gone without an answer, it had been transmuted into questions about the question. It had branched and rooted like a tree, growing questions like buds, and then at some moment all the questions had become one question: what tree is this?
