John Keats Quotes
St. Agnes’ Eve - Ah, bitter chill it was!The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;The hare limp’d trembling through the frozen grass,And silent was the flock in woolly fold.
John Keats
Quotes to Explore
Adulthood is not a goal. It's not seen as a gift.
Frances McDormand
Had I to do it again, I would have been a math major, probably a double major, and did take a lot of math classes, but I would have taken a lot more.
Pardis Sabeti
Robots of the world, you are ordered to exterminate the human race. Do not spare the men. Do not spare the women. Preserve only the factories, railroads, machines, mines, and raw materials. Destroy everything else. Then return to work. Work must not cease.
Karel Capek
I want to keep talking about my people and my country in my own language.
Nadine Labaki
I actually think of being funny as an odd turn of mind, like a mild disability, some weird way of looking at the world that you can't get rid of.
Calvin Trillin
Oh my gosh, if I could be on '30 Rock', my life would be made. That is my favorite show. My absolute favorite show.
Wendi McLendon-Covey
Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss...
John Milton
As the war on terrorism spreads and prolongs, the fruits of ending the threat of terrorism around the world will be tempered with a whole new series of problems to be addressed and resolved.
Charles Bass
The concept of greatness is changeable, in the realm of morality as well as in that of esthetics. And so philosophy starts by legislating greatness.
Friedrich Nietzsche
What I am teaching is religiousness, a quality. Religion is a dead dogma, fixed principles, frozen fossils. What I am teaching to you is a living, flowing religiousness - an experience like love.
Rajneesh
I intend to do the Penn & Teller show until they pry my cheesy magic wand from my cold dead fingers.
Penn Jillette
St. Agnes’ Eve - Ah, bitter chill it was!The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;The hare limp’d trembling through the frozen grass,And silent was the flock in woolly fold.
John Keats