I do what I do because of Walt Disney - his films and his theme park and his characters and his joy in entertaining.
I'm convinced that the man who has learned to meditate upon the Lord will be able to run on his feet and walk in his spirit. Although he may be hurried by his vocation, that's not the issue. The issue is how fast his spirit is going. To slow it down ...
Where an excess of power prevails, property of no sort is duly respected. No man is safe in his opinions, his person, his faculties, or his possessions.
I watched Gene Kelly for his smile, for his energy. Vittorio Gassman for his movement. Clark Gable for his mustache. And I watched Lassie who was happy as a dog.
I like Ryan Gosling as an actor. I watch all of his movies, and he's Canadian and I just like his swag. I read his interviews and I'm a big fan of his.
If you know his father and grandfather, don't worry about his son.
IF the camel once gets his nose in the tent, his body will soon follow.
He who breaks his word shall through his word be broken.
If a man becomes powerful even his chicken and his dog go to heaven.
He who slanders his neighbor makes a rod for his own back.
Because he killed his wife he took shelter with his in-laws.
The heart of a fool is in his mouth and the mouth of the wise man is in his heart.
He who does not open his eyes must open his purse.
He who climbs a ladder, must have his brains in his feet.
Everyone is worth more than his neighbor and less than his son.
When the man is away, the monkey eats his corn and goes into his hut.
The adoptee benefits because his collective parents are permitted to grow secure in their particular roles in his life. His adoptive parents are not unwittingly encouraged to compete to possess him. Nor are his birth parents punished and banished fro...
Looking' his last' upon the scene of his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing 'she' could see him now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and death with a dauntless heart, going to his doom with a grim smile on his lips.
He would have been half-hanged, taken down alive, castrated, his genitals stuffed in his mouth, his stomach slit open, and his intestines taken out and burnt, and his carcase chopped into four quarters.
His shoes looked too large; his sleeve looked too long; his hair looked too limp; his features looked too mean; his exposed throat looked as if a halter would have done it good.
By his very profession, a serious fiction writer is a vendor of the sensuous particulars of life, a perceiver and handler of things. His most valuable tools are his sense and his memory; what happens in his mind is primarily pictures.
