Arthur Conan Doyle Quotes
What a creature he was! Never have I felt such a horse between my knees. His great haunches gathered under him with every stride, and he shot forward ever faster and faster, stretched like a greyhound, while the windbeat in my face and whistled past my ears.
Arthur Conan Doyle
Quotes to Explore
Make no mistake: The organization of the working class must be both economic and political. The capitalist is organized upon both lines. You must attack him on both.
Daniel De Leon
So many girls trying to be models, like, 'Oh my god, I want to be a model!' Nobody really knows the reality of it. It's a lot of hard work, but at the same time, it's a lot of fun.
Olga Fonda
My mother's proud of where she's from, and her history, and her past, and same with my dad. I have roots in Africa. Like, I am from Africa as well as from Germany, and I am very proud of that.
Zendaya
Your prudence, my wise friend, allows too little room for the mysterious whisperings of life.
Margaret Fuller
Perhaps, once I am gone, the one thing I might be remembered for is having sung a great deal of Mahler with a great many phenomenal conductors. It is wonderful music, very spiritual.
Maureen Forrester
Carry your Bible and live by it. There's a better chance that you will stay married if that much is true for either one of you - male or female.
Phil Robertson
I've heard people have written books of me. People don't even know me, but they've written a book on me. You ever heard of hearing it from the horse's mouth? I'm the horse.
R. Kelly
Aspects of life here civility, courtesy, coziness have always bound Britons to their country . . . They are part of the British myth, along with lovely countryside, dogs and horses, rose gardens, the Armada, the Battle of Britain.
R. W. Apple
The satisfaction you get when you finally beat your dad is amazing, that rush of adrenaline.
Lee Westwood
What a creature he was! Never have I felt such a horse between my knees. His great haunches gathered under him with every stride, and he shot forward ever faster and faster, stretched like a greyhound, while the windbeat in my face and whistled past my ears.
Arthur Conan Doyle