Virginia Woolf Quotes
Death is woven in with the violets,” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)
Virginia Woolf
Quotes to Explore
-
I'm trying my best.
Katarina Johnson-Thompson
-
I don't write under the ghost of Faulkner. I live in the same town and find his life and work inspiring, but that's it. I have a motorcycle and tool along the country lanes. I travel at my own speed.
Barry Hannah
-
I was a huge ham in school in Atlanta.
Hannah Storm
-
I'd never even been to Wrigley Field. I never even enjoyed baseball that much, but I loved being there, the crowd was lovely, and they all sang with me!
Bea Arthur
-
It is as difficult to define or classify Islamic cinema as it would be a Christian, Jewish or Buddhist one.
Tariq Ali
-
I consider Rashi Khanna and Regina Cassandra as my best friends. They say there are three Rs in the Telugu industry: Rakul, Rashi, and Regina. All three of us debuted in the same year, and while we all compete for the same roles, we are still the closest, and we confide in each other.
Rakul Preet Singh
-
Bubba shot the jukebox last night, said it played a sad song and it made him cry.
Mark Chesnutt
-
I don't understand why women journalists always ask women about motherhood? It's far more important and interesting for women to talk about their work, their thoughts, their creativity and their individual identity.
Laetitia Casta
-
Argentine political life is like the life of an ant community or an African forest tribe: full of events, full of crisis and deaths, but life is always cyclical, and the year ends as it begins.
V. S. Naipaul
-
We are two brothers: I am a doctor; my brother is an engineer.
Bassem Youssef
-
One of the things I did to make myself feel better is that I kicked up my running even more. I knew that I had to stay active, that I had to keep living as if my life was actually going to unfold naturally because when you stop, when you freeze, and you think about it, that's when the demons come and can drag you down.
Dan Hill
-
Death is woven in with the violets,” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)
Virginia Woolf