Dravis Jackets Quotes & Sayings

Poets are not so scrupulous as you are. They know how useful passion is for publication. Nowadays a broken heart will run to many editions."
"I hate them for it," cried Hallward. "An artist should create beautiful things, but should put nothing of his own life into them. We live in an age when men treat art as if it were meant to be a form of autobiography. We have lost the abstract sense of beauty. Some day I will show the world what is it; and for that the world shall never see my portrait of Dorian Gray. — Oscar Wilde

I'm trying to talk about challenging subjects people might not like and trying to find relief as we discuss it. — Mara Brock Akil

I was dead. That was the only explanation for this. I had made it to a place where little, sexy, dirty angels made men's fantasies come to life. — Abbi Glines

What a glorious thing is life, surrounded by the beauties of the world in which we live. — Howard W. Hunter

The experience reminds me of a favorite saying: Most of the yield from research efforts comes from the coal that is mined while looking for diamonds. — Paul D. Boyer

I like to imagine that Adam's tongue, his palate and his lips were always on fire, that the air he breathed was kindled to incandescence each time he cried out in sorrow or delight. If fiction can be said to have a function, it is to release that primary fury of which language, even now, is miraculously capable - from the dry mud of daily use. So that furred, spotted and striped, it may - as it did in Eden - scrawl under every tree as revelation. — Rikki Ducornet

Whether I'm doing a routine where I want to move people, or if I want to feel moved myself, I definitely tap into those moments where it's not just dancing or movement. It might just be a hand gesture or just a slow look, or even just the way you slightly tip your head forward. These subtleties speak volumes. — Derek Hough

And, as I had gazed at my surroundings, at the muted, yet triumphant, colors splashed in joyful serenity over the immaculate stone floor, at the profiles of my fellow parishioners bent in prayer, and finally, up above, at the flickering lights held in a soft gray ceiling like chandeliers in an ancient palace, I realized that my thoughts had been transferred to Someone Else. — Gina Marinello-Sweeney