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
There's no sense in making life seem like it's a struggle, because that doesn't make anybody feel better.
Ashton Kutcher
I don't know if I miss it per se, but I do miss the fact that there just doesn't seem to be any rock 'n' roll out there anyplace. Everything does seem kind of tame. It's even hard in Manhattan to go out and find a good band to go see.
Joan Jett
Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall without getting lost once.
Joanne Rowling
I still have my Levi's jacket that I bought on the Portobello Road when I was 14, and it's like part of me, you know, it's got oils in it, and it's my comfort, security blanket or something.
Liberty Ross
The death of the victim doesn't change the validity of the charges in any way. It sort of strengthens the prosecution's case.
Eric Johnson
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