We may win the war but not the soul; we may gain the power but not the peace.
A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on.
The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is.
You may still be here tomorrow...but your dreams may not.
Christmas lights may be the loneliest thing for me, especially if you mix them up with reindeers and sleighs. I feel alone. I feel isolated. I feel I do not belong.
I'm such a homebody. I don't party. I don't drink. That may be because I got it out all out of my system before I was 18.
I shall not die young, for I am already near seventy: I may die old.
I calculate that I took 20,000 punches, but I earned millions and kept a lot of it. I may talk slow, but my mind is OK.
I don't try to match wine with food, I just drink what I like. And I think a lot of people are going towards that now, which never used to be in the past.
I am determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may find myself. For I have learned that the greater part of our misery or unhappiness is determined not by our circumstance but by our disposition.
I have a gorgeous coat that I found at a vintage fair - it's just so elegant. Unfortunately, it has a massive hole underneath the arm, as I think I may have worn it to death!
I may even show up behind the camera. I love to put things together; I love to give direction. I have a great eye for pace.
I am God's wheat, and I shall be ground by the teeth of beasts, that I may become the pure bread of Christ.
I cannot stand public attention, I just can't. Of course, if I may I might write something instead.
People say, 'I know you, don't I?' And they expect me to say I know them from their daughter's school or something - they can't place me. And I love that. Long may it last.
I would like to think that if I stop playing in three, four, five years time, whatever it may be, that I would still be involved in football and still have that as my profession. It is my passion and what I know.
I think a lot of people think that my parents' deaths is why I write such sad songs, but that's not true. Those songs may just be the woman I am.
I was a woman in a man's world. I was a Democrat in a Republican administration. I was an intellectual in a world of bureaucrats. I talked differently. This may have made me a bit like an ink blot.
O amor é fodido. Hei-de acreditar sempre nisto. Onde quer que haja amor, ele acabará, mais tarde ou mais cedo, por ser fodido. É melhor do que morrer. Há coisas, como o álcool e os livros, que continuam boas. A morte é mais aborrecida. Por que ...
When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain, Before high piled books, in charact’ry, Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face, Huge cloudy symbols of...
One likes to think that there is some fantastic limbo for the children of imagination, some strange, impossible place where the beaux of Fielding may still make love to the belles of Richardson, where Scott’s heroes still may strut, Dickens’s del...
