If you know me so well, tell me which hand that I use.
My fans know me and love me the way I am. I dont want to lie to my fans.
I think anyone who knows me at all knows that I have been a movie addict all my life. I grew up in a city obsessed by cinema and where there are cinemas on every street corner.
Home life is best for me. But I do enjoy the company of good friends whether from long ago or newer friends who only know me as George, not the ex-Beatle.
People are loving me because they don't even know me. "You're Bob's son. We love you." So I think that's a good thing for a father to leave so much that people are loving their children. I'm proud of that.
Some guys that know me from when I was a kid say "My son, oh he's just like your father." It's just a natural part of our lives. But, within the music industry and within the industry of the critiques of music, where it becomes "Ziggy's music is not as good as Bob's music," I don't understand. But I don't really pay much attention to that because I'm just expressing myself.
Outside of London especially, I can't go anywhere without people buying me a drink. There are quite a lot of people who know me from The Vicar Of Dibley and are big Dibley fans, but they don't have things to shout at me from that show.
I'm living a dream. I hope in 10 years people will know me as a gold medalist.
I had sinus surgery the day after Christmas and it has been the worst surgery of my life. Very painful. And on top of it everyone of course thought I got a nose job. Which is so funny because if you know me I would have told you I got a nose job I'm not gonna keep it a secret.
It's great to have people come out. I do worry, though. They know me very intimately, in a way, if they listen to my show; they know a lot about me.
If you are to judge a man, you must know his secret thoughts, sorrows, and feelings; to know merely the outward events of a man's life would only serve to make a chronological table-a fool's notion of history.
People who know me know that theres a light-hearted side, humour... But you could easily say I am cheeky.
Some devil with a pitchfork keep talkin' like he know me. I stood before an angel as he told me bout the glory.
People that really know me, they adore me.
Sold my soul to Satan. I've been dancing with the devil. So when you get to hell you can say you know me. I'm easily attracted by the dark side. Devil keep following. For that fortune, some sold their soul to Satan. Was on track for the first two years, then i let the Devil steer. Now i got to mask my tears, but allow me to re-introduce myself, my name is Cole: Born sinner, opposite of a winner. But the Devil run the T.V. so the demons in him, I'm in trouble did a deal with the Devil but now I'm pleading with him like give me my soul. I ain't ever letting go but the devil don't play fair.
[T]o know means to reach the reality of existing things[.]
I have a job to do. ... If you think right now I give a damn about presidential politics, then you don't know me.
Well, I was thinking this very thing. I was thinking: I am going to die today, but Jesu also died, so he knows how it is with me. And I was thinking, would he know me when I came to him? Yes! Sitting in his hall, he will see me sail into the bay, and he will run down to meet me on the shore; he will wade into the sea and pull my boat onto the sand and welcome me as his wayfaring brother. Why will he do this? Because he too has suffered, and he knows...HE KNOWS...Is that not good news?
Anyone who knows me well must understand and be sympathetic to my genuine need to be my own greatest hero. It is not a flaw of character; it is a catastrophe.
The people who really know me understand that I have a tough exterior, but I'm actually just a hippie at heart.
We hug, but there are no tears. For every awful thing that's been said and done, she is my sister. Parents die, daughters grow up and marry out, but sisters are for life. She is the only person left in the world who shares my memories of our childhood, our parents, our Shanghai, our struggles, our sorrows, and, yes, even our moments of happiness and triumph. My sister is the one person who truly knows me, as I know her. The last thing May says to me is 'When our hair is white, we'll still have our sister love.
It's beautiful," said Mort softly. "What is it?" THE SUN IS UNDER THE DISC, said Death. "Is it like this every night?" EVERY NIGHT, said Death. NATURE'S LIKE THAT. "Doesn't anyone know?" ME. YOU. THE GODS. GOOD, ISN'T IT? "Gosh!" Death leaned over the saddle and looked down at the kingdoms of the world. I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, he said, BUT I COULD MURDER A CURRY.
truthfully, this is the fabric of all my fantasies: love shown not by a kiss or a wild look or a careful hand but by a willingness for research. i don’t dream of someone who understands me immediately, who seems to have known me my entire life, who says, i know me too. i want someone keen to learn my own strange organization, amazed at what’s revealed; someone who asks, and then what, and then what?
Everyone who knows me knows that I'm a hopeless romantic who listens to love ballads and doo-wop songs all the time.
No more photos. Surely there are enough. No more shadows of myself thrown by light onto pieces of paper, onto squares of plastic. No more of my eyes, mouths, noses, moods, bad angles. No more yawns, teeth, wrinkles. I suffer from my own multiplicity. Two or three images would have been enough, or four, or five. That would have allowed for a firm idea: This is she. As it is, I'm watery, I ripple, from moment to moment I dissolve into my other selves. Turn the page: you, looking, are newly confused. You know me too well to know me. Or not too well: too much.
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