I want to prove that Holst's 'The Planets' can be as much of a sensory overload as a concert by the Grateful Dead, and just as exciting.
The medals of the dead heroes are the coins for the future. (Les médailles des héros morts - Sont les pièces pour l'avenir.)
Oppression does not make for hearts as big as all outdoors. Oppression makes us big and small. Expressive and silenced. Deep and dead.
There should be more to writing than entertaining an already-brain-dead society and making money. If not,then you miss the point of writing.
The only thing that will be remembered about my enemies after they're dead is the nasty things I've said about them.
Never ask an elf for help; they might decide your better off dead, eh?" (Orik) (Eldest) (Page 207)
Most of the laugh tracks on television were recorded in the early 1950’s. These days, most of the people you hear laughing are dead.
One glance at a book and you hear the voice of another person, perhaps someone dead for 1,000 years. To read is to voyage through time.
I do not worship a DEAD and buried Christ at Calvary. I worship a ressurected and LIVING Christ in Heaven! Jesus Christ is alive.
'Dead Air' is full of rants; it's a rant-based book. Yes, it's self-indulgence. I plead guilty; mea culpa.
Oh, to me not drinking is like being dead, almost. I sit here taking endless journeys down memory lane. It gets boring.
The idea of writer as sage is pretty much dead today. I would certainly feel very uncomfortable in the role.
Love is still alive in my heart. Dreams are still alive at the dead of night. Hopes are still dancing in my mind.
Man, I don't read books! I just read a bunch of 'Walking Dead' comics. I don't even read comics, but zombies are something I just can't get enough of.
No matter how banal the contents, there is always something that touches me. For someone now dead once thought these words significant enough to write them down.
Someone once threw me a small, brown, hairy kiwi fruit, and I threw a wastebasket over it until it was dead.
I married my love in the springtime, / but by summer he’d locked me away. / He’d murdered me dead by the autumn, / and by winter I was naught but decay
Ambition is a Dead Sea fruit, and the greatest peril to the soul is that one is likely to get precisely what he is seeking.
It was the word 'late' that did it. Such a stupid word to use of the dead, implying that they would be with us today if they hadn't happened to be delayed in traffic somewhere...
The Suicide, as she is falling, Illuminated by the moon, Regrets her act, and finds appalling The thought she will be dead so soon.
What a writer has to do is write what hasn't been written before or beat dead men at what they have done.
