John Dryden Quotes
All things are hush'd, as Nature's self lay dead,The Mountains seem to nod their drowsy head;The little Birds in dreams their Songs repeat,And sleeping Flowers, beneath the night-dew sweat;Even Lust and Envy sleep.
John Dryden
Quotes to Explore
My music is a personal thing, and I feel like if I talk too much about the songs, or if there's too much of my personal life out there, it ruins it.
Washed Out
You can't second-guess yourself as a filmmaker.
Ralph Bakshi
A lot of people, especially Christians, want to put you in this box of being a Christian actor, and I don't believe in it. You do yourself and everyone else a big disservice when you start thinking about it as 'Christian art.' That's why most Christian art is bad. They don't put a premium on the 'art.'
Zachary Levi
The world has grown suspicious of anything that looks like a happily married life.
Oscar Wilde
'Vogue' is a very beautiful magazine, an institution, and I learned so much working there.
Carine Roitfeld
Most of the more celebrated names among African-American authors, poets, and artists are known to the world because of their association with specific cultural arts movements.
Aberjhani
In 'Tree of Life,' the cinematography records a small story, a celebration of the courage of everyday life. But it does it so up close and so effortlessly that it has the effect of elevating the intimacy of the story to a grand scale.
Caleb Deschanel
Dijeron que antiguamentese fue la verdad al cielo;tal la pusieron los hombres,que desde entonces no ha vuelto.En dos edades vivimoslos propios y los ajenos:la de plata los estraños,y la de cobre los nuestros.
Lope de Vega
We Marxist communists are profoundly opposed to the anarchist doctrine. This doctrine is erroneous
Leon Trotsky
A veces, de noche, enciendo una luz, para no ver.
Antonio Porchia
When we live the love of the Gospel out loud, a revolution will occur.
Natalie Grant
All things are hush'd, as Nature's self lay dead,The Mountains seem to nod their drowsy head;The little Birds in dreams their Songs repeat,And sleeping Flowers, beneath the night-dew sweat;Even Lust and Envy sleep.
John Dryden
