John Gay Quotes
My lodging is on the cold ground, And hard, very hard, is my fare, But that which grieves me more Is the coldness of my dear.
John Gay
Quotes to Explore
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From the night, his solitude, the poet finds day and starts a diary that is lethal to the inert. The dark landscape yields a dialogue.
Salvatore Quasimodo
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Some day you will be wheeled in for a heart bypass operation, and a surgeon will be the person who is now behind the counter when you renew your car registration at the department of motor vehicles.
P. J. O'Rourke
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I try to work on shows that I would want to watch.
J. J. Abrams
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I'm under pressure with all my films. And the reason we are always under pressure is because it's only in our profession that months and even years of hard work is judged by the first show on Friday.
Mahesh Babu
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When I got out of high school, I started breaking out. I tried everything from A to Z as far as seeing doctors and getting prescriptions. I even did home remedies, and I had no luck. A fan gave me Proactiv, and it cleared my skin, but there were too many steps. I lose everything, and I lost one of the products. My acne started to come back.
Cameron Dallas
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Way back when I was a junior pastry chef, I'd bake loads of muffins every morning, as many as 120 or so, while operating on autopilot.
Yotam Ottolenghi
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Archeology and ecology can go hand in hand.
Carlos Salinas de Gortari
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My soul is dark with stormy riot: directly traced over to diet.
Samuel Hoffenstein
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My wife gave me a year to start making money out of writing, and after six months, I'd made not a bean. Suddenly, the books took off, and the beans started coming in!
Jonathan Stroud
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I get verbal diarrhea in the writers' room. I just tell everyone a million anecdotes and stories and craziness, and we all double up on the floor laughing.
Jill Kargman
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Our live experiences, fixed in aphorisms, stiffen into cold epigrams. Our heart's blood, as we write it, turns to mere dull ink.
F. H. Bradley
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My lodging is on the cold ground, And hard, very hard, is my fare, But that which grieves me more Is the coldness of my dear.
John Gay