Lewis Hines Quotes & Sayings

Paradox ... Rich in natural resources but poor in the quality of our human resource — Fela Durotoye

James Joyce is a cul-de-sac. [Ulysses is] ... an example how literature branched out and went into, lost itself in nowhere, no man's land. — Werner Herzog

I had great difficulties learning to play initially because I could not think rhythmically properly, although it's an even-paced rhythm, I was not phrasing properly, I was too Western. It took me a while to learn to think in needed form, and the only way I could learn was just by ear. — Richard Meale

Those who fail to learn from the brutal stompings visited on them in the past are doomed to be brutally stomped in the future. — Hunter S. Thompson

The Craft was what it was. People who respond to that movie respond to it really strongly. — Robin Tunney

This is what people don't understand. When they might see me do something that's not 'God-like,' then they say, 'Well, I thought you were saved?' I am saved. I'm not perfect. I have emotions still. My name's still Gary. These things here are not all cleaned up. I'm showing you my path. — Gary Sheffield

As a white person, I realized I had been taught about racism as something that puts others at a disadvantage, but had been taught not to see one of its corollary aspects, white privilege, which puts me at an advantage. — Peggy McIntosh

Men and women do make decisions wherever the Gospel is proclaimed; whether publicly or privately, some say yes, some say no, and some procrastinate. No one ever hears the Gospel proclaimed without making some kind of decision! — Billy Graham

Create a mould, and pour yourself in it. See what you want to be, and be. Don't fear the pain. Pain is good. Pain is price. — Stephen Lloyd Jones

Decided it's time to get a new phone, that's all." "What was wrong with the old one?" Ruger asked, his voice mild. "It broke. — Joanna Wylde

I've felt that if I just used initials nobody would know whether I was a man or a woman, a dog or a tiger. I could hide from view, like a bat on the underside of a branch. — P.L. Travers

When I closed the door Grandmother was already seated at her spinning wheel. Her foot was on the treadle but her eyes were thoughtfully on me. The spinner was beautifully carved of dark oak with leaves twining their way round and round the outer rim. It must have been very old, as the designs were too fanciful to have been made i the new England. She called to me and asked me if I could spin. I told her yes, well enough, but that I could sew better, which was a statement only half true. A camp surgeon would have a better hand with a cleaver to a limb than I with a needle on the cloth. She spun the wool through knotted fingers glistening with sheep's oil and wrapped the threads neatly around the bobbin. Gently probing, she teased out the story of our days in Billerica just as she teased out the fine thread from the mix and jumble of the coarse wool in her hands. — Kathleen Kent