House Quotes
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It was surprising to me to hear a member question whether another member of the House was an adult. We're all adults in the House of Commons, and I think it diminishes us all to suggest otherwise.
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The heart is a hollow muscle, and it will beat billions of times during our lives. About the size of a fist, it has four chambers: two Atria and two ventricles. How this muscle can house something as encompassing as love is beyond me. Is this heart the one that loves? or do you love with your soul, which is infinite?I don't know. All I know is that I feel this love in every molecule in my body, every breath I take, all the infinity in my soul.
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You try to run the best line. I had about the fifth-fastest time, but I think a couple of guys got sleds that are house sleds. They've got their own name on them, that kind of stuff.
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Long sentences in a short composition are like large rooms in a little house.
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The White House isn't the place to learn how to deal with international crisis, the balance of power, war and peace, and the economic future of the next generation.
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Never before have I imagined my life without him—like this house, he is my only point of reference in this difficult existence, this unstable and frightening world. The thought of his leaving home fills me with a terror so strong, it takes my breath away. I feel like one of those seagulls covered in oil from a spill, drowning in a black tar of fear.
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I don't want to be an art-house movie guy, where people who go to film school can discuss your work, but people who haven't studied cinema can't appreciate it. By the same token, I don't want to be the guy who's making this commercial pap that people lap up but that disappears the minute you leave the theater.
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I grew up in a house with very few books.
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It is a hell of a thing to be hungry in your own house.
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The portrait in his, and he's walking out of the house he was born in with blood on his hands and his head held high and his mother's face on his back, his own inalienable albatross, for all the world to see.
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My true church is a whorehouse – the only one that gives me true satisfaction.
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I rang up this publisher and they asked me what I was doing at the time. I told them I was a house-painter, so first of all they had me come round and paint the place. Only later did they consider my work and Banished Misfortune was published.
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Announced by all the trumpets of the sky Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven, And veils the farm-house at the garden's end.
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I recall that I had a terrible struggle finding anything antireligious in the school libraries.But many years later my family moved into a house where a woman had left a box of books containing 20 volumes on the history of the Inquisition. I found out there was a word for people like me: "heretic." I was kind of delighted to find I had an identity.
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My house is very serious. It's a lot of antiques, and the way I decided to liven it up is, I paired it very vibrant colors and - bugs... I think that they're pretty. And I think that they're fascinating and they're natural.
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My wife and I met when each of us was dragged to a party we didn't want to go to by friends. I was coming off a bad injury, but my roommate insisted I get out of the house and be around people. God love our friends; we've been together 20 years now!
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No man who owns his own house and lot can be a Communist. He has too much to do.
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If you want to hurt me, fine. Take my books. Burn down my house. Shave my head while I am sleeping. But nobody, nobody screws with my dog.
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Julia Child came to my house and wanted a lesson in making risotto.
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Once you've got a big feminist and political justification for talking about how you went round to Benedict Cumberbatch's house and did period all over his sofa, then there's no reason not to tell that anecdote in the middle of a dinner party.
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When all is said and done, the real citadel of strength of any community is in the hearts and minds and desires of those who dwell there.
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When I look back on my life, it seems nearly everything of interest happened in little more than one decade - dramas, tragedies, major events, pleasures, my close friendships with artists and political figures, the lovely places where I lived in England and New York, the trips to Europe, visits at the White House.
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There are moments of despair that come sometimes, when night sets in and a white fog presses against the windows. Then our house changes its shape, rears up and becomes a place of despair. Then fear and rage run simply--and the thought of Death as a friend. This is the simplest of thoughts, that Death must come when we call, although he is a god.
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It would have to be connected with performance art somehow, either in the front of the house or the back. I was myopic about this from fourth grade on.
