Christina Stead Quotes
Men are always good to fools and perfect idiots,” cried Henny impatiently. “A man will run ten miles from a woman with sense.
Quotes to Explore
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One can never know enough. The unknown and its call lies even in what we know.
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With patient and firm determination, I am going to press on for jobs. I'm going to press on for equality. I'm going to press on for the sake of our children. I'm going to press on for the sake of all those families who are struggling right now. I don't have time to feel sorry for myself. I don't have time to complain. I am going to press on.
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Religion is everywhere. There are no human societies without it, whether they acknowledge it as a religion or not.
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By the usual reckoning, the worst books make the best films.
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The trip to Iraq confirmed that I made the right decision when I voted against lending Iraq the $18 billion the United States plans to use to help rebuild the country.
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I am totally a fringe candidate, and so is Bill Weld: you know, two Republican governors serving in heavily blue states, outspoken, small government guys, outspoken on the social liberal side. We're fringe, totally. We're fringe.
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My father's death from prostate cancer in 1993 was tragic. He never complained about pain. He was a fighter. By the time he was ready to die he wasn't able to die in the way that he wanted to, which seemed an outrage to me.
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Of course, in the United States, which at the time was a very young country, there were also class distinctions. They weren't as pronounced, but they quickly evolved as well.
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My dear Miss Glory, Robots are not people. They are mechanically more perfect than we are, they have an astounding intellectual capacity, but they have no soul.
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It was extremely hard going from being a parent of one to a parent of three, because now all these instant decisions have to be made about how you balance out the time and attention between them.
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The way people deal with me - they'll go overboard in trying to be politically correct and make a mess of it. Everyone's so worried about what they're saying to everyone else, that they don't talk very much.
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I have matured a lot.
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I don't know what more to say. I mean, we're all going to die in a world that is worse than when we entered it.
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I'm not the greatest driver. I don't know if I'll ever master the art.
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My parents really encouraged me.
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Our Soviet writer must be guided in his world only by the need of the people, useful for the society.
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He wrote stories about everything he saw, and he saw a lot. He walked through the streets of Brooklyn along the water, or leaned against the store windows on Livingston Street watching people hurrying along, making up stories about this one or that one.
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When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of 'No answer.' It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, 'Peace, child; you don't understand.'
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The nature of this melancholy becomes clearer, once one asks the question, with whom does the historical writer of historicism actually empathize. The answer is irrefutably with the victor. Those who currently rule are however the heirs of all those who have ever been victorious. Empathy with the victors thus comes to benefit the current rulers every time.
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By reading, you learn through others' experiences, generally, a better way to do business, especially in our line of work where the consequences of incompetence are so final for young men.
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I think that feminists have definitely underestimated the role that women have had historically. I think I would be insecure if I were to be a man; there's so much pressure on you.
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The race doesn't always belong to the swift nor the battle to the strong. It belongs rather to those who run the race, who stay the course and who fight the good fight.
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A good attitude for a woman is to be confident, and to be confident is to be natural.
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Men are always good to fools and perfect idiots,” cried Henny impatiently. “A man will run ten miles from a woman with sense.
