Some people talk about children wanting to be born as though somewhere out there in the collective unconscious there's a spirit, or a thought or an idea that wants to be born. And I sometimes feel that way about stories... that they're there and they...
I don’t take up the story and follow it as if it were a road, taking me somewhere... I go into it, and move back and forth and settle here and there, and stay in it for a while. It is more like a house.
Sometimes what you see is not real, and the reality is not what you see. Somewhere between both these reasoning resides a fact: where there is a lack of trust and confidence, perception will always differ with reality.
Somewhere between a third and a quarter of all people living in America today were born between 1946 and 1965 and if you think you're tired of hearing about us, you should try being one of us.
Somewhere along the way, Capitalism reduced the idea of justice to mean just "human rights," and the idea of dreaming of equality became blasphemous. We are not fighting to tinker with reforming a system that needs to be replaced.
I want to get out there and do anything, but I still don't know about riding roller coasters. I've never been on one. There is something about being strapped in and on a track; I always feel like we're going to be launched off somewhere.
In this sleepless night, as the darkness advances, look up at the sky and somehow remember that somewhere in this wide world, there are always people who love you, and people who need you. Because every person can't go on living alone.
And who knows? Somewhere out there in this audience may even be someone who will one day follow my footsteps, and preside over the White House as the president's spouse. I wish him well!
I lived on the Greek side of Cypress, and I think that's also where my interest in politics really started to come alive. It was the first time that I was told I couldn't go somewhere: My grandfather's house is on the Turkish side, but we were not al...
The media in the States can be quite self-reflective. When I lived in England, I was much more aware of the day-to-day politics that were happening. Living somewhere where the media involvement is greater and so omnipresent, you become pulled into it...
It's been a concern of mine for years that the mainstream media coverage of culture and politics takes place in two nodes, Washington and New York, and yet all the voting goes on somewhere else.
Rolf Ekeus, his appearance can deceive. He looks somewhere between an international diplomat and a mad professor. He's got that sort of shock of white hair and a slightly absent-minded way of speaking. But he's extremely sharp and very serious about ...
'Fowl Space' was a lovechild of boredom. While in class, two of the developers started passing designs back and forth. Somewhere in the middle of all that ink and crumpled paper, a chicken in a space helmet was born and thus we have 'Fowl Space.'
If I go to an awards ceremony, I wear a suit, of course I do. I am proud to be there. If there are young kids looking at pictures of me, I want them to feel that they should long for the opportunity to go somewhere really smart and wear a beautiful s...
Panic bells, it's red alert There's something here From somewhere else The war machine springs to life Opens up one eager eye Focusing it on the sky Where 99 red balloons go by
Interest rate cuts have an effect in stimulating an economy by directly or indirectly making someone, somewhere, spend more than they otherwise would. That extra spending increases demand and ensures that we all carry on with work to do, without us h...
When I see films like 'Lagaan' and 'Rang De Basanti,' I feel, 'Why can't I do work like this?' Then you think and realise you need to learn more to make this kind of a film or write this kind of a film. Also, somewhere down the line, you need to be b...
But he had been the victim of the world’s most common crime—his youth had been kidnapped by a thing called time. It had likely also been raped, dismembered, and buried somewhere never to be seen again
If you're reading this, then I guess someone, somewhere does go through the rubbish and read every piece of paper that gets balled up and tossed away. So in that case here it is- my name's Sal.
At the moment developing a nice little inoffensive cancer somewhere on dry land seemed infinitely preferable to what she was grimly convinced was soon to be her death by drowning way too far out at sea.
As for peace, it was never free and laws were made to be broken. Peacemaker or lawbreaker, someone, somewhere always paid the price no matter what side of the words they were on.
