Doored Quotes & Sayings

A defective voice will always preclude an artist from achieving the complete development of his art, however intelligent he may be ... The voice is an instrument which the artist must learn to use with suppleness and sureness, as if it were a limb. — Sarah Bernhardt

Swords don't run out of ammo," Hiro shouts. — Neal Stephenson

The moon was up now and the trees were dark against it, and he passed the frame houses with their narrow yards, light coming from the shuttered windows; the unpaved alleys, with their double rows of houses; Conch town, where all was starched, well-shuttered, virtue, failure, grit and boiled grunts, under-nourishment, prejudice, righteousness, inter-breeding and the comforts of religion; the open-doored, lighted Cuban boilto houses, shacks whose only romance was their names — Ernest Hemingway,

When I was 15 years old, I read an article about Ivan Boesky, the well-known takeover trader - turned out years later it was all on inside information! But before that came to light, he was very successful, very flamboyant. And I thought, 'This is what I want to do.' So I'm 15 years old, I decide I'm going to Wall Street. — Karen Finerman

Let's put it in old movie Mafia terms. There are guys that are in position to get by but they didn't wait their turn. They back-doored the top guy to get the power. For example, Sonny Corleone went up there, and he wanted to be the top guy. And the Godfather said, 'You know what dude, I'm a star.' That's what I'm doing now, and that's what I was trying to do with what's-his-name. — Shaquille O'Neal

Pictures made in childhood are painted in bright hues ... — Kate Douglas Wiggin

Bach's music is really some of the greatest. I think, in some ways, Bach is the most profound composer of all. — Joshua Bell

My sole consolation when I went upstairs for the night was that Mamma would come in and kiss me after I was in bed. But this good night lasted for so short a time, she went down again so soon, that the moment in which I heard her climb the stairs, and then caught the sound of her garden dress of blue muslin, from which hung little tassels of plaited straw, rustling along the double-doored corridor, was for me a moment of the utmost pain; for it heralded the moment which was to follow it, when she would have left me and gone downstairs again. — Marcel Proust