Streets Quotes - Page 29

• Mama tried to save us from the streets, but the streets were too strong.

  Barry White

  Strong, Mama, Save Nature

  "Personal Quotes/ Biography". www.imdb.com.

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• Before this ugly edifice, and between it and the wheel-track of the street, was a grass-plot, much overgrown with burdock, pig-weed, apple-pern, and such unsightly vegetation, which evidently found something congenial in the soil that had so early borne the black flower of civilized society, a prison.

  Nathaniel Hawthorne

  Weed, Flower, Pigs

  Nathaniel Hawthorne (1935). “The Scarlet Letter (Sparklesoup Classics)”, p.24, Sparklesoup LLC

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• I like a little bit of designer, with a bit of vintage and high street mixed in. I love it when you find those one-off key pieces, which end up becoming investment pieces.

  Cara Delevingne

  Love, Keys, Vintage

  Biography/Personal Quotes, www.imdb.com.

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• It was a hot afternoon and I can still remember the smell of honeysuckle all along the street. How can I have known that murder can sometimes smell like honeysuckle?

  Billy Wilder

  Smell, Hot, Afternoon

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• When I write stories I am like someone who is in her own country, walking along streets that she has known since she was a child, between walls and trees that are hers.

  Natalia Ginzburg

  Country, Children, Wall

  Natalia Ginzburg (2017). “The Little Virtues: Essays”, p.49, Skyhorse Publishing Inc.

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• Again, your challenge is not just to improve. It is to break the service paradigm in your industry or market so that customers aren't just satisfied, they're so shocked that they tell strangers on the street how good you are.

  Jack Welch

  Challenges, Stranger, Break

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• At last, in the dead of the night, when the street was very still indeed, Little Dorrit laid the heavy head upon her bosom, and soothed her to sleep. And thus she sat at the gate, as it were alone; looking up at the stars, and seeing the clouds pass over them in their wild flight-which was the dance at Little Dorrit's party.

  Charles Dickens

  Nature, Stars, Party

  CHARLES DICKENS (1867). “LITTLE DORRIT”, p.110

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• Photographers who come up with power never get accused of imitating anyone else even though they photograph the same broom, same street, same portraits.

  Minor White

  Portraits, Photographer, Brooms

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• It bothers me that the executive branch is taking the amazing position that just on the president's say-so, any American citizen can be picked up, not just in Afghanistan, but at O'Hare Airport or on the streets of any city in this country, and locked up without access to a lawyer or court just because the government says he's connected somehow with the Taliban or Al Qaeda. That's not the American way. It's not the constitutional way.

  Laurence Tribe

  Country, America, Airports

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• I got Sonny up to Harlem, and we started street playin' in New York. We did that for three or four years and survived. We brought it back to the streets again.

  Brownie McGhee

  New York, Years, Ukulele

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• My parents were overprotective because you could get kidnapped and bombs were exploding in the streets.

  Mia Maestro

  Pregnancy, Parent, Bombs

  Biography/Personal Quotes, www.imdb.com.

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• They were playing old Bob Dylan, more than perfect for narrow Village streets close to Christmas and the snow whirling down in big feathery flakes, the kind of winter where you want to be walking down a city street with your arm around a girl like on the old record cover.

  Donna Tartt

  Girl, Winter, Cities

  Donna Tartt (2013). “The Goldfinch”, p.462, Hachette UK

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• If newsmen do not tell the truth as they see it because it might make waves, or if their bosses decide something should or should not be broadcast because of Washington or Main Street consequences, we have dishonored ourselves and we have lost the First Amendment by default.

  Richard S. Salant

  America, Boss, Might

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• Street performers, homemade crafts, keep your wallet in your front pocket and don't buy any crap!

  Camryn Manheim

  Venice, Pockets, Crafts

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• White swan of cities slumbering in thy nest . . . White phantom city, whose untrodden streets Are rivers, and whose pavements are the shifting Shadows of the palaces and strips of sky.

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  Swans, Sky, Cities

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1912). “The complete poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow”, p.1218, Library of Alexandria

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• Streets flooded. Please advise.

  Robert Benchley

  Venice, Please, Advise

  Quoted in The AlgonquinWits, ed. Robert E. Drennan (1968)

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• The fire trucks are out, there are thousands of people in the streets. You have a choice. You can have this, or you let Negroes eat at the lunch counters.

  Burke Marshall

  Fire, Lunch, People

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• I remember standing on a street corner with the black painter Beauford Delaney down in the Village, waiting for the light to change, and he pointed down and said, 'Look.' I looked and all I saw was water. And he said, 'Look again,' which I did, and I saw oil on the water and the city reflected in the puddle. It was a great revelation to me. I can't explain it. He taught me how to see, and how to trust what I saw. Painters have often taught writers how to see. And once you've had that experience, you see differently.

  James A. Baldwin

  Writing, Light, Cities

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• The leadership for civil rights has to take place in the White House or it is going to take place in the streets.

  Hubert H. Humphrey

  Wisdom, Rights, White

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• Streets teemed with hell's wretched souls. New dead with their gadgets and old dead from antiquity. Demons roamed the avenues and alleyways, tormenting hapless damned at random with branding irons, flaming pitchforks, and razor-wire whips. -From the story Remember, Remember, Hell in November, in the anthology, Lawyers in Hell.

  Larry Atchley Jr.

  Iron, Soul, Wire

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• Why do all the clerks and navvies in the railway trains look so sad and tired, so very sad and tired? I will tell you. It is because they know that the train is going right. It is because they know that whatever place they have taken a ticket for that place they will reach. It is because after they have passed Sloane Square they know that the next station must be Victoria, and nothing but Victoria. Oh, their wild rapture! oh, their eyes like stars and their souls again in Eden, if the next station were unaccountably Baker Street!

  Gilbert K. Chesterton

  Stars, Taken, Tired

  Gilbert K. Chesterton (2013). “The Essential Gilbert K. Chesterton”, p.145, Simon and Schuster

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• There is a horrifying loneliness at work in this time. No, listen to me. We lived six and seven to a room in those days, when I was still among the living. The city streets were seas of humanity; and now in these high buildings dim-witted souls hover in luxurious privacy, gazing through the television window at a faraway world of kissing and touching. It is bound to produce some great fund of common knowledge, some new level of human awareness, a curious skepticism, to be so alone.

  Anne Rice

  Loneliness, Kissing, Sea

  Anne Rice (2010). “The Queen of the Damned”, p.83, Ballantine Books

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• But when the door shuts on us, all that vanishes. The shell-like covering which our souls have excreted to house themselves, to make for themselves a shape distinct from others, is broken, and there is left of all these wrinkles and roughnesses a central oyster of perceptiveness, an enormous eye. How beautiful a street is in winter!

  Virginia Woolf

  Beautiful, Eye, Winter

  Virginia Woolf (2009). “Selected Essays”, p.303, OUP Oxford

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• Why is it that my heart is so touched whenever I meet a dog lost in our noisy streets? Why do I feel such anguished pity when I see one of these creatures coming and going, sniffing everyone, frightened, despairing of even finding its master?

  Emile Zola

  Dog, Heart, Pity

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• If you went to a home, kicked down the front door, chased the people who lived there out into the street and said, Go! You are free! Free as a bird! Go! Go! - do you think they would shout and dance for joy? They wouldn't. Birds are not free. The people you've just evicted would sputter, With what right do you throw us out? This is our home. We own it. We have lived here for years. We're calling the police, you scoundrel.

  Yann Martel

  Home, Thinking, Doors

  Yann Martel (2009). “Life of Pi”, p.18, Vintage Canada

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