Imagination has a great deal to do with winning.
The idea that cinema can be dangerous is a great idea.
The great love of my life is music.
The Great War was a progressive revelation and disillusionment.
A great idea is not enough.
No great intellectual thing was ever done by great effort.
As the mother of two daughters, I have great respect for women. And I don't ever want to lose that.
Produce great men, the rest follows.
Being known for musicals is a great thing.
It takes a great man to be a good listener.
Greatness is the flower of great adversity.
Do it with great love or forget it.
He is in no real danger. He merely suffers from a lethargy, a sickness that is common among the depressed. He has forgotten who he really is, but he will recover, for he used to know me, and all I have to do is cloud the mist that beclouds his vision...
the pain of severe depression is quite unimaginable to those who have not suffered it, and it kills in many instances because its anguish can no longer be borne. The prevention of many suicides will continue to be hindered until there is a general aw...
depression in its major stages possesses no quickly available remedy: failure of alleviation is one of the most distressing factors of the disorder as it reveals itself to the victim, and one that helps situate it squarely in the category of grave di...
Depressing thought: my friends were the girls I ate lunch with, all buddies from kindergarten who knew one another so well we weren't sure if we even liked one another anymore.
Katherine screwed her nose up at the taste of the instant coffee. Grace laughed. "Trust me. You love this stuff. You can't start your day without it." "Well that is just depressing," Katherine murmured, chasing a pea around her plate with a plastic f...
I'd wasted so much of my life. So many of my days, and all of my promise, all of my dreams, lost to hospitals, to depression, to wanting to die. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This is not who I am. Except, of course, it was. It was all there ...
He tried to disguise how tired and ill he was, how depressing the thought of death was to him and how he spent his days and nights thinking up schemes of living beyond what the prognosis said. His hope, if not his heart, would find a way.
A blanket could be used to help my career. Things have gone cold in this economic depression, so anything to help warm things up would be most welcomed.
Like many self-help books, The Deepest Blue is full of horrifyingly simplistic language and some admittedly good advice. Somehow the women in the book learn to say: That’s my depression talking. It’s not “me.” As if we could scrape the color ...
