George Eliot Quotes
Well, I aren't like a bird-clapper, forced to make a rattle when the wind blows on me. I can keep my own counsel when there's no good i' speaking.
George Eliot
Quotes to Explore
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When you put the pressure on yourself, it's not good. If you fight afraid to lose, you wind up not fighting that good.
Rafael dos Anjos
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Don't spend more than 10% of your marketing/PR budget on a trailer. Trailers have to be marketed, too. So, far too many authors wind up marketing their trailers instead of their books.
M. J. Rose
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I am a being of Heaven and Earth, of thunder and lightning, of rain and wind, of the galaxies.
Eden Ahbez
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I had three attorneys dedicated solely to find the statistic of the number of missing Native American women on reservations. Any reservation, not just 'Wind River.' They don't exist. The federal government, which is responsible for the reservations, don't keep those stats.
Taylor Sheridan
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She was obsessed with French and Swedish cinema. I also remember our mother showing us 'Gone With the Wind' very early on. She absolutely loved Vivien Leigh, so it must have been a formative experience for me, thinking, 'Oh, maybe one day I'll be like Vivien Leigh.'
Felicity Jones
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I always wanted to be a writer. In the beginning, I thought I had to rewrite 'Gone with the Wind,' but eventually, I found my way and realized that wasn't me.
Karin Slaughter
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And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is all his own, retiring, as he were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Blown about with every wind of criticism.
Samuel Johnson
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I lost my eyesIn east wind skiesHere's where I've criedWhere I've triedWhere God and the Tendaberry riseWhere Quakers and revolutionariesJoin for life
Laura Nyro
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My candle burned alone in an immense valley. Beams of the huge night converged upon it, Until the wind blew. Then beams of the huge night Converged upon its image, Until the wind blew.
Wallace Stevens
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Bingo swayed like a jelly in a high wind.
P. G. Wodehouse
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Madness rides the star-wind... claws and teeth sharpened on centuries of corpses... dripping death astride a bacchanale of bats from nigh-black ruins of buried temples of Belial...
H. P. Lovecraft
