Walter de La Mare Quotes
His brow is seamed with line and scar; His cheek is red and dark as wine; The fires as of a Northern star Beneath his cap of sable shine. His right hand, bared of leathern glove, Hangs open like an iron gin, You stoop to see his pulses move, To hear the blood sweep out and in. He looks some king, so solitary In earnest thought he seems to stand, As if across a lonely sea He gazed impatient of the land. Out of the noisy centuries The foolish and the fearful fade; Yet burn unquenched these warrior eyes, Time hath not dimmed, nor death dismayed.
Quotes to Explore
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Cross the wrong state border with your gun, or wake up one morning to new legislation or a new presidential executive order, and suddenly you're the bad guy, not the good guy. No wonder some gun owners seem so touchy; they feel, at some level, like criminals in waiting.
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I am healthy and happy.
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This is what's sick about living in L.A. My eight-year-old daughter will point to a woman and say, 'Look! That woman's had too much Botox.' She spots them because they all look a bit like Lord Voldemort from 'Harry Potter.'
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I had no choice in the decision to make myself available. I was not always doing things I wanted to do.
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Quiet is the new loud.
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The loneliest, most down-on-his-luck person can have a dog who adores him. The most bitter, sour person can light up with joy when he sees his dog. It is magical and, as 'The Dog Master' reveals, it is biological - we evolved together.
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The biggest critics of my books are people who never read them.
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I said I wanted to strap guns on an El Camino. When I brought it up at a meeting, they said great. I realized there's no adult in the room.
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You always have to be on at times, and occasionally people get upset if you say no to a picture when you're eating dinner or something, and that's kind of the hard part. Or if you get crazy rumors that swirl around you from time to time that are just silly.
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In England we burnt redheads at the stake, because we thought they were witches. There are still young redheads in Britain getting ripped for having red hair. 'Oy, Ginger!'
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It's kind of fun to do the impossible.
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It seems that no two people came to this specialized area of work via the exact same route.
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It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get to where we are today, but we have just begun. Today we begin in earnest the work of making sure that the world we leave our children is just a little bit better than the one we inhabit today.
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We must overcome the notion that we must be regular... it robs you of the chance to be extraordinary and leads you to the mediocre.
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I love meat - I'm Cuban; I grew up eating meat, platanos, and arroz con pollo. I don't believe in starving yourself, but sometimes I do cleanses and diets to prepare for a role.
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Authoritarianism, an unrealistic occidental imagination - these issues will never be settled. Turkey will continue to take Europe as a model; it will continue to pursue its search for democracy.
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The one thing we know about the future is that it will not be like today. I don't think that people should be too anxious about not knowing what they are going to do in the future, because we really can't know.
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Ingratitude is the essence of vileness.
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I think of myself as a mum who finds the time to go to work. I have to check myself for baby sick before I walk out of the house in the morning. I am really a mum... I know I am a great mother.
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Until I die there will be sounds. And they will continue following my death. One need not fear about the future of music.
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I've never liked the idea of working for other people.
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I like to entertain at home, to live beautifully but comfortably.
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Television has - particularly at the HBO level in the United States - become a completely new genre. Something like Deadwood or The Wire is a whole new thing - there was no equivalent to that medium before. It's like a new way of telling stories.
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His brow is seamed with line and scar; His cheek is red and dark as wine; The fires as of a Northern star Beneath his cap of sable shine. His right hand, bared of leathern glove, Hangs open like an iron gin, You stoop to see his pulses move, To hear the blood sweep out and in. He looks some king, so solitary In earnest thought he seems to stand, As if across a lonely sea He gazed impatient of the land. Out of the noisy centuries The foolish and the fearful fade; Yet burn unquenched these warrior eyes, Time hath not dimmed, nor death dismayed.
