Famous Mark Mccormack Quotes & Sayings

A moment's thought is passion's passing knell. — John Keats

I stabbed you. With a massive sword. You caught on fire."
His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Okay, so maybe our problems aren't like other couples. — Cassandra Clare

Where's the sun?" he asked me once.
"Behind the clouds."
"Is it always there? Even when it's cloudy?"
"Always."
"Could we see it if we climbed to the top of that poplar?"
"No."
"And if we were on a minaret?"
"No. The clouds are above the minaret."
"And if a hole was made in the clouds?"
Indeed, why don't people make holes in clouds for boys who love the sun? — Mesa Selimovic

She was the Little Red Riding Hood in this situation and I was the Big Bad Wolf with a big bad boner. — Penelope Ward

As the world is getting smaller, it becomes more and more important that we learn each other's dance moves, that we meet each other, we get to know each other, we are able to figure out a way to cross borders, to understand each other, to understand people's hopes and dreams, what makes them laugh and cry. — Jehane Noujaim

I speak about universal evolution and teleological evolution; because I think the process of evolution reflects the wisdom of nature. I see the need for wisdom to become operative. We need to try to put all of these things together in what I call an evolutionary philosophy of our time. — Jonas Salk

When painting portraits a lot of people say, 'Why not get a photograph of the person?' Photography is wonderful and it is an art form in itself, but ... my portrait is a culmination of elements ... a truer image of a person than just the 'click' of a snapshot. — Jamie Wyeth

Writing a poem is making music with words and space. — Arnold Adoff

He was going to embrace love every day. He would appreciate the world every hour. And he will believe in God every second — Soroosh Shahrivar

I'm not looking to write the great American novel, win a Pulitzer or teach history. I write to entertain my readers. — Dorothy Garlock

We built that Wendy House our own selves, for Wendy! And you can't keep a Wendy out of her own Wendy House! — Geraldine McCaughrean

Had we had all the money in the world to spend and we were doing another studio movie, we probably would have jumped quickly into the Necromonger universe and done an Orpheus Descending movie there. We didn't have that kind of resource. So, we said, this time, "If not that, this time, then what is it? What does this new movie look like?" Quickly, just in talking about it very simply with Vin [Diesel] in his kitchen, we decided on a survival, left-for-dead story, where Riddick could, as a character, reclaim the animal side. — David Twohy

We think, sometimes, there's not a dragon left. Not one brave knight, not a single princess gliding through secret forests, enchanting deer and butterflies with her smile. What a pleasure to be wrong. Princesses, knights, enchantments and dragons, mystery and adventure ... not only are they here-and-now, they're all that ever lived on earth! Our century, they've changed clothes, of course. Dragons wear government-costumes, today, and failure-suits and disaster-outfits. Society's demons screech, whirl down on us should we lift our eyes from the ground, dare we turn right at corners we've been told to turn left. So crafty have appearances become that princesses and knights can be hidden from each other, can be hidden from themselves. — Richard Bach

I had taken out of my pocket the photographs of us all which I had wanted to show Freddie, and among them the photo of Gay Orlov as a little girl. I had not noticed until then that she was crying. One could tell by the wrinkling of her brows. For a moment, my thoughts transported me far from this lagoon, to the other end of the world, to a seaside resort in Southern Russia where the photo had been taken, long ago. A little girl is returning from the beach, at dusk, with her mother. She is crying for no reason at all, because she would have liked to continue playing. She moves off into the distance. She has already turned the corner of the street, and do not our lives dissolve into the evening as quickly as this grief of childhood? — Patrick Modiano