William Shakespeare Quotes
Then was I as a tree whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night, a storm or robbery, call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather.
William Shakespeare
Quotes to Explore
Often I look back and see that I had been many kinds of a fool-and that I had been happy in being this or that kind of fool.
Carl Sandburg
But, I swear, they're turning Donna into Annie Hall this season. More ties. More suits. But they're also keeping her really motivated, ya know? Like, wanting to be a rock journalist. Wanting to be the first woman president.
Laura Prepon
From my point of view, I'm a totally normal person! Really! I have a family. I have kids. I have a house... I don't have a dog.
Vincent Cassel
The college years are when you sow all your wild oats and become a vampire. By 40, you've lived it up. At least, you hope.
Octavia Spencer
I like to get suggestions on what to read. I'll look at Twitter, people I like, people I admire... I'll go and research the book, download it on my phone and read it while I'm on the road.
Vance Joy
One thing you can't intend is how you will be read. I hear it said a lot that my books are about the 'search for identity', and this is said admiringly, as if I meant to encourage such a search.
Zadie Smith
Each night before I go to bed, I take out a small card and write a list of the things I need to do the next day in order of their priority.
Joseph B. Wirthlin
Mellow doesn't describe me. I'm hungry every day.
Alan Rickman
Chicago is my home. And the way Chicago sounds will always be a part of who I am.
Kurt Elling
That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you're not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
Men and women, they were beautiful and wild, all a little violent under their pleasant ways and only a little tamed.
Margaret Mitchell
Then was I as a tree whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night, a storm or robbery, call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather.
William Shakespeare