Galway Kinnell Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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The wretched and miserable would rise into plenty of joy and happiness as soon as they climb the steps of my mosque.
Sai Baba
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I've moved on to Plan B now, writing novels.
Valerie Plame
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I really like having a life outside work. I sometimes wish I did more career stuff and was in that Hollywood scene a bit more. But Toronto's my home.
Rachel McAdams
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When you play on a team, you learn that there will always be five guys you like, a bunch of guys who are OK, and five you despise. The trick to getting along in any system is not to worry about the five you despise.
D. B. Sweeney
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Even someone who works with me, like this girl who works with me, her name is Sue. She lives with me and holds the fort; she takes care of all these little things. She takes care of the money situation, and I would not be able to live without someone like that.
Caprice Bourret
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It comes back to the same old question people are always asking me: 'When are you going to do a solo record?' Well, if I did, it would probably be similar to 'Baluchitherium,' meaning it would be Van Halen music - which I write anyway - but without singing.
Eddie Van Halen
Van Halen
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I don't understand the ones that have no sense of hope and invest in hate. That's not gonna work out, you know? It's a waste of your time!
Tom Petty
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
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Teach your children poetry; it opens the mind, lends grace to wisdom and makes the heroic virtues hereditary.
Walter Scott
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Poetry is one of the destinies of speech... One would say that the poetic image, in its newness, opens a future to language.
Gaston Bachelard
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O.K., I'm a rock critic. I also write and record music. I write poetry, fiction, straight journalism, unstraight journalism, beatnik drivel, mortifying love letters, death threats to white jazz critics signed 'The Mau Maus of East Harlem,' and once a year my own obituary (latest entry: 'He was promising...').
Lester Bangs
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Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
Watch lights fade from every room.
Bedsitter people look back and lament,
Another day's useless energy spent.
Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
Lonely man cries for love and has none.
New mother picks up and suckles her son,
Senior citizens wish they were young.
Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white,
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?
Graeme Edge
The Moody Blues
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Prose is walking; poetry is flying...
Galway Kinnell