Charles Dickens Quotes
The very dogs were all asleep, and the flies, drunk with moist sugar in the grocer’s shop, forgot their wings and briskness, and baked to death in dusty corners of the window.
Charles Dickens
Quotes to Explore
I'm glad we turned into a big-time touring band later in life. In fact, it's almost like we planned it out that way.
Walter Becker
China Crisis
Forget not, O Lord, that I am one of those whom Thou hast created, and with Thine own blood hast redeemed. I repent me of my sins: I will strive to amend my ways.
Saint Ambrose
Bipartisanship helps to avoid extremes and imbalances. It causes compromises and accommodations. So let's cooperate.
Zbigniew Brzezinski
I'm generally competing with the ideal I have set for myself, and I've found that served me very well.
Victoria Principal
I developed this - I don't know, like a burning love, almost, inside of me that I just wanted to get up, and I just wanted to skate every single day and get better.
J. R. Celski
If writers just sit and talk about oppression, they are not going to do much writing.
V. S. Naipaul
Rutherford was a historian, after all, and secretly enjoyed it when the truth did injury to modern sensibilities.
Kage Baker
I would say that the Pentagon Papers case of 1971 - in which the government tried to block the The New York Times and The Washington Post that they obtained from a secret study of how we got involved in the war in Vietnam - that is probably the most important case.
Floyd Abrams
In every shoot, between the actor and the director there is manipulation. I'm not saying that negatively. It's healthy.
Adele Exarchopoulos
We thought that whatever we wanted to do was right and good, simply because we were Americans, and we would succeed at it because we were Americans.
Neil Sheehan
No statistical proofs exist that prayer reduces illness and mortality, except perhaps through a psychogenic enhancement of the immune system; if it were otherwise the whole world would pray continuously.
E. O. Wilson
The very dogs were all asleep, and the flies, drunk with moist sugar in the grocer’s shop, forgot their wings and briskness, and baked to death in dusty corners of the window.
Charles Dickens
