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The wounds have changed me. I am so soft with scars my skin breathes and beats stars.
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Moods
in Quotes & Aphorisms (Moods)
I never think about themes. I let the music create itself. I like it to be a potpourri of all kinds of sounds, all kinds of colors, something for everybody, from the farmer in Ireland to the lady who scrubs toilets in Harlem.
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Moods)
I got the weary blues and I can't be satisfied.
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Moods)
It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it.
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We begin from the recognition that all beings cherish happiness and do not want suffering. It then becomes both morally wrong and pragmatically unwise to pursue only one's own happiness oblivious to the feelings and aspirations of all others who surround us as members of the same human family. The wiser course is to think of others when pursuing our own happiness.
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Posted by: Save a Quote Staff
Because of you I can feel myself slowly but surely becoming the me I have always dreamed of being.
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Moods)
If I shall have sufficient strength to improve and amplify what was written and published by me up to now about motion by adding some little speculations, and in particular those relating to the force of percussion, in the investigation of which I have consumed hundreds and thousands of hours, and finally reduced this to very easy explanation, so that people can understand it in less than half an hour of time.
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Posted by: Save a Quote Staff
It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want—oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!
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I will not propose to you that my way is best. The decision is up to you. If you find some point which may be suitable to you, then you can carry out experiments for yourself. If you find that it is of no use, then you can discard it.
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in Quotes & Aphorisms (Moods)
There was a time when I should have felt terribly ashamed of not being up-to-date. I lived in a chronic apprehension lest I might, so to speak, miss the last bus, and so find myself stranded and benighted, in a desert of demodedness, while others, more nimble than myself, had already climbed on board, taken their tickets and set out toward those bright but, alas, ever receding goals of modernity and sophistication.
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