Brad Williams Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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The art of life is to show your hand.
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In the ordinary church, it is suppressed by respectability, by a desire to appear better than we really are.
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Man is a creative retrospection of nature upon itself.
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Hawaii has always been a very pivotal role in the Pacific. It is in the Pacific. It is a part of the United States that is an island that is right here.
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Some people are born on third base and go through life thinking they hit a triple.
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Of, course it always cheers a news editor when a story has what we describe as 'legs' therefore it, erm, runs.
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Everyone tries to define this thing called Character. It's not hard. Character is doing what's right when nobody's looking.
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I am insecure... because I have to think about what I look like every day.
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I have my own show at 28 and a Golden Globe. So, yes, I face rejection, but I've also been very fortunate and understand how fortunate I am.
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Providence has its appointed hour for everything. We cannot command results, we can only strive.
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People have grown fond of me, like some old building.
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Women sometimes seem to share a quiet, unalterable dogma of persecution that endows even the most sophisticated of them with the inarticulate poignancy of the peasant.
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Long before they slump into poverty, great powers succumb to a poverty of ambition.
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The strange thing about life is that though the nature of it must have been apparent to every one for hundreds of years, no one has left any adequate account of it.
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And as the bullet ripped through his flesh, Ralston was consumed by a single thought: I never told her that I loved her.
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We went to America a few times and Brian Epstein always tried to waffle on at us about saying nothing about Vietnam. So there came a time when George Harrison and I said 'Listen, when they ask next time, we're going to say we don't like that war and we think they should get right out.' That's what we did.
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Comics have a caste system - an editor has to act in a certain way, an artist has to be humble.
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I've never tried to manipulate my image.
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A cold wind raced across the surrounding fields of wild grass, turning the land into a heaving dark-green ocean. It sighed up through the branches of cherry trees and rattled the thick leaves. Sometimes a cherry would break loose, tumble in the gale, fall and split, filling the night with its fragrance. The air was iron and loam and growth. He walked and tried to pull these things into his lungs, the silence and coolness of them. But someone was screaming, deep inside him. Someone was talking.
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I'm not a cheerleader. I'm not trying to pretend to be sweet and then come out and be bad. This is who I am.
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I'm in awe of comics that do things that I can't do, or haven't tried doing yet.
