Erich Maria Remarque Quotes
The storm lashes us, out of the confusion of grey and yellow the hail of splinters whips forth the childlike cries of the wounded, and in the night shattered life groans painfully into silence. Our hands are earth, our bodies clay and our eyes pools of rain. We do not know whether we are still alive.
Erich Maria Remarque
Quotes to Explore
We need a certain amount of energy to produce the sound. But then to sustain it, we have to give more energy, or otherwise, it goes and it dies in silence. And therefore, sound is absolutely, inextricably connected to time, the length of time.
Daniel Barenboim
People think that by living on some mountainside in a tent and being frozen to death by freezing rain, they're somehow discovering reality, but of course that's just another fiction dreamed up by a TV producer.
J. G. Ballard
Encourage children to write their own stories, and then don't rain on their parade. Don't say, 'That's not true.' Applaud flights of fantasy. Help with spelling and grammar, but stand up and cheer the use of imagination.
Gail Carson Levine
I love silence. But I usually only listen to that when I'm sleeping.
Anton Zaslavski
A little rain will fillThe lily's cup which hardly moists the field.
Rain
High achievement always takes place in the framework of high expectation.
Charles Kettering
Problems occur when we tie our peace of mind to another's state of mind.
Bill Crawford
And that's all we are Jefferson, all of us on this earth, a piece of drifting wood. until we - each of us, individually- decide to become something else. I am still that piece of drifting wood, and those out there are no better. But you can be better.
Ernest Gaines
I'm blessed that I can leave it to the pros at work and red-carpet events, because I can't say I'm adept. Still, I'm definitely not afraid to take chances when it comes to beauty.
Becki Newton
You can do something that walks a line, and invariably, whatever that line is, it will be crossed by people who don't know any better and want to ape the success.
David Fincher
The storm lashes us, out of the confusion of grey and yellow the hail of splinters whips forth the childlike cries of the wounded, and in the night shattered life groans painfully into silence. Our hands are earth, our bodies clay and our eyes pools of rain. We do not know whether we are still alive.
Erich Maria Remarque