William Blake Quotes
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry weep weep weep weep. So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
William Blake
Quotes to Explore
The compulsively readable events of my life occurred mainly in infancy, and it's been pretty humdrum ever since.
T. C. Boyle
Each of my books is different from the last, each with its own characters, its own setting, its own themes. As a writer, I need the variety. I sense my readers do, too.
Barbara Delinsky
With 'Eagle of the Ninth,' every shot was extremely planned and organized. The director was like, 'Do this!' And I say, 'How was it?' and he says, 'Good.' It was very odd. I would never know where he was headed, or even if he was shooting me at a close-up or from a distance.
Tahar Rahim
As a science fiction fan, I had always assumed that when computers supplemented our intelligence, it would be because we outsourced some of our memory to them. We would ask questions, and our machines would give oracular - or supremely practical - replies.
Gary Wolf
Every kid, every minority kid can be so successful if they focus on their education.
Magic Johnson
Better than the strength of men and horses is our wisdom.
Xenophanes
When we reach the outer limit of what Scripture says, it is time to stop arguing and start worshipping.
J. I. Packer
You're never going to hear me say, 'Well, I've been critical of Obama five times, so now I need to be critical of McCain five times.' That is a false equivalence, and that's what I think is wrong with journalism.
Brown Campbell
All the people that criticised me should eat their words.
Diego Maradona
I consider creativity to be a more non-rational, subconscious thing. You have a relationship to your creativity - you can feed it with content, with some rational prodding and sleep and things like that, but the mechanisms by which your creativity work are largely unknown.
Ze Frank
Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.
Arthur Rimbaud
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry weep weep weep weep. So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
William Blake
