Cohoons Elevator Quotes & Sayings

Anything that instills a sense of hope will at least temporarily help treat depression. — Irving Kirsch

I had been practicing for the Depression a long time. I wasn't involved with loss. I didn't have money to lose, but in common with millions I did dislike hunger and cold. — John Steinbeck

Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and is content. — Sarah Chauncey Woolsey

The sea's vast depths lie open to the fish;
Wherever the breezes blow the bird may fly;
So to the brave man every land's a home. — Ovid

At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance. — T. S. Eliot

Actually, the funny thing is, after all these years, I've got all these new songs to learn for the show we're doing at Joe's Pub, so it's kind of fun to get down and rehearse new things, and also rethink some of the older songs, how we're going to do them. — Lesley Gore

I love to make soups. My father used to say, 'There's nothing like a nice bowl of soup.' One of my favorites is ... ready? Broccolini, white bean and hot Italian sausage soup. I've used escarole. Escarole in beans is unbelievable, or you can use bok choy, any kind. You can really fool around. That's one of my good ones. — Tony Danza

A business career for a woman and her need for a woman's life as wife and mother, are not enemies at all, unless we make them so, but may be the closest and most co-operative friends and supporter of each other. — Hortense Odlum

The problem is that I work in more than one genre. It's impossible for me to aim for a single one because, for me, comedy is mixed with tragedy. That's very Spanish, the way in which comedy and tragedy are inextricable from each other. — Pedro Almodovar

Is writing the gift of curling up, of curling up with reality? One would so love to curl up, of course, but what happens to me then? What happens to those, who don't really know reality at all? It's so very dishevelled. No comb, that could smooth it down. The writers run through it and despairingly gather together their hair into a style, which promptly haunts them at night. Something's wrong with the way one looks. The beautifully piled up hair can be chased out of its home of dreams again, but can anyway no longer be tamed. Or hangs limp once more, a veil before a face, no sooner than it could finally be subdued. Or stands involuntarily on end in horror at what is constantly happening. It simply won't be tidied up. It doesn't want to. — Elfriede Jelinek