"I awoke in the Midsummer not-to-call night, in the white and the walk of the morning"

--

Gerard Manley Hopkins

#Morning Quotes #Night Quotes #White Quotes

“I see shining fish struggling within tight nets, while I hear orioles singing carefree tunes. Even trivial creatures know the difference between freedom and bondage. Sympathy and compassion should be but natural to the human heart.”
“Judy Garland was the singer I most wanted to sound like then, not to copy, but to get some of her soul and purity. A wonderful young voice.”

Source : Biography/Personal Quotes, www.imdb.com.
“Give him a crowd, a gallery worthy of his best effort, and the old warrior will put on his show... He isn't what he use to be. But pack the stands, turn up the lights, and who is it brings down the house with his act? The Babe!”
“I start with the story, almost in the old campfire sense, and the story leads to both the characters, which actors should best be cast in this story, and the language. The choice of words, more than anything else, creates the feeling that the story gives off.”
“Whenever the government says, 'It's time to move on,' that means there's something they don't want you to know about.”
“Thor is a legend after all and if you're getting a legend back, you've got to get the Darby in.”
“It feels great to wake up feeling healthy, awake and alert. I love waking up in the morning, taking a deep breath, reading the newspaper and going to the gym - as opposed to carrying a hangover right until lunch. That's horrible. It is nice to let off steam once in a while, but I find myself less involved with people in that sense. I like staying at home, reading a book, having a chat with my wife, a quiet dinner and going to bed early. I don't want to drink half a bottle of whisky and look 50 the next day. I have become an anti-drinking, anti-smoking agent.”
“Books, books, books! I had found the secret of a garret room Piled high with cases in my fatherâ€™s name; Piled high, packed large,--where, creeping in and out Among the giant fossils of my past, Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there At this or that box, pulling through the gap, In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy, The first book first. And how I felt it beat Under my pillow, in the morningâ€™s dark, An hour before the sun would let me read! My books!”

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