Rene Char Quotes
How did writing come to me? Like bird’s down on my windowpane, in winter. Just then there rose in the heart a struggle of firebrands, which has, still now, not ended.
Quotes to Explore
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A healthy economics has got to have both conceptual, theoretical research and applied, empirical research.
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Stillness of person and steadiness of features are signal marks of good breeding.
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In the beginning, I found it hard to give my songs away, but now I've realised it's exciting, and it's only making me better.
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Humans are insane. We kill our own people, starve our own people, sell them, work them to death, beat them, don't give them affordable/free/good healthcare, and let them live in misery, while a few of us have - we have all we want. We are evil.
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You can almost judge how screwed up somebody is by the kind of toilet paper they use. Go in any rich house and it's some weird coloured embossed stuff.
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Who has fully realized that history is not contained in thick books but lives in our very blood?
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Private education can give you confidence, which is marvellous; a sense of entitlement isn't.
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Let's put it this way: I would consider my skiing ability to be far superior to my skating ability. And, in fact, my 10-year-old grandson, who's a AAA squirt, can skate circles around me.
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I think it's actually a misperception that I am a comedic actress. I do more drama than comedy but very little of it has been seen. When you are in big funny movies and they do well and your little part in it kind of explodes people perceive you as a comedian.
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People don't stop eating, and they don't stop drinking coffee.
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I want to have fun, but I don't quite know how.
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Some people say they use images to help them remember intricacies. Others say they just remember. If they are able to form an image of the face, it is because they remember how it was: it is not that an image guides memory, but that memory produces an image, or the sense of imaging. We have no agreed way to talk clearly about such things.
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It was not necessary and might even have been disadvantageous for a government to claim a direct personal commission and communion of the kind God had given some rulers in the Old Testament. A working government might need the support of the Church but not of God Himself in a voice from on high.
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But my friends, my brothers and sisters of the Pacific, we know who we are. We carry in our hearts the knowledge that we are the bearers of a proud legacy that surely marks us as people of strength, and courage and will. We have survived in our aquatic continent through many centuries.
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During a single week of July 1967, 164 Americans were killed and 2100 were wounded in city riots in the United States. We are truly fighting a two-front war and doing badly in both. Each war feeds on the other and, although the President assures us that we have the resources to win both wars, in fact we are not winning either.
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And it's too hard to focus through all this doubt I keep making this to-do list but nothing gets crossed out Working on the record seems pointless now When the world ends who's gonna hear it?
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I can cry like Roger. It's just a shame I can't play like him.
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It may sound lame, but I've been journaling since I was in third grade. I love it! It makes me feel calm and happy.
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Talking about peoples lived experiences is a powerful way to mobilize them. We can create new rules.
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The Texan turned out to be good-natured, generous and likable. In three days no one could stand him.
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Golf was never a religion to me.
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Modern literary theory sees a similarity between walking and writing that I find persuasive: words inscribe a text in the same way that a walk inscribes space. In The practicse of Everyday Life, Michel de Certeau writes, 'The act of walking is a process of appropriation of the topographical system on the part of the pedestrian; it is a special acting-out of the place...and it implies relations among differentiated positions.' I think this is a fancy way of saying that writing is one way of making the world our own, and that walking is another.
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How did writing come to me? Like bird’s down on my windowpane, in winter. Just then there rose in the heart a struggle of firebrands, which has, still now, not ended.
