Petrarch (Francesco Petrarca) Quotes
I had got this far, and was thinking of what to say next, and as my habit is, I was pricking the paper idly with my pen. And I thought how, between one dip of the pen and the next, time goes on, and I hurry, drive myself, and speed toward death. We are always dying. I while I write, you while you read, and others while they listen or stop their ears, they are all dying.
Petrarch
Quotes to Explore
I couldn't live on the singing at first, so I worked as a cleaner, in a launderette, in a garage, face painting and doing the windows of shops at Christmas, 'cause I had been to art college.
Imelda May
I'd never stop traveling, and I love bringing my family along with me. My children have points of reference everywhere, friends from Milan to Los Angeles. I think it's really fun for them.
Valeria Mazza
I'm pretty much a thrift shop gal. Flea markets on Sundays.
Zoe Kravitz
We are wedded to freedom of expression and shall do nothing to diminish that freedom.
Kapil Sibal
There will be the 5% on the fringe of any hardcore fanbase that get angry about any change you make to the source material. The truth is that novels, games, comics, and what-have-you are not usually ready to be slapped up on screen as-is.
D. B. Weiss
These greens are so fast I have to hold my putter over the ball and hit it with the shadow.
Sam Snead
Meditation helps me to calm down.
Lady Gaga
Don't let other people tell you what you want.
Pat Riley
No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did, he would cease to be an artist.
Oscar Wilde
It's funny, I don't know where I would place myself in the literary landscape. I really just write the book that I would want to read. I put on the blinders, and I really - it is, for me, that simple.
Dan Brown
Every morning, I can lose myself just by looking at my son.
Olivier Martinez
I had got this far, and was thinking of what to say next, and as my habit is, I was pricking the paper idly with my pen. And I thought how, between one dip of the pen and the next, time goes on, and I hurry, drive myself, and speed toward death. We are always dying. I while I write, you while you read, and others while they listen or stop their ears, they are all dying.
Petrarch