How I wished I'd have had a camera of my own, a mad mental camera that could register pictorial shots, of the photographic artist himself prowling about for his ultimate shot - an epic in itself. (On the road with Robert Frank, 1958)
How I wished I'd have had a ...
More phrases
Who sows virtue reaps honor.
You must show no mercy...nor have any belief whatsoever in how others judge you...for your greatness will silence them all.
When a warrior goes down, you pick up his shield and go play in honor of him.
Chip Kelly
Great warriors, like great earthquakes, are principally remembered for the mischief they have done.
Christian Nestell Bovee
Nothing is so strong as gentleness, nothing so gentle as real strength.
Saint Francis de Sales
Quotes from the same author
Bop began with Jazz but one afternoon somewhere on a sidewalk maybe 1939, 1940, Dizzy Gillespie or Charlie Parker or Thelonious Monk was walking past a men's clothing store on 42nd Street or South Main in L.A. and from a loudspeaker they suddenly heard a wild impossible mistake in jazz that could only have been heard inside their own imaginary head, and that is a new art. Bop.
I wished I could explain it to those I loved, my mother, to Japhy, but there just weren't any words to describe the nothingness and purity of it. "Is there a certain and definite teaching to be given to all living creatures?" was the question probably asked to beetle browed snowy Dipankara, and his answer was the roaring silence of the diamond.
I took a straight picture that made me look like a thirty-year-old Italian who'd kill anybody who said something against his mother.
This is the story of America. Everybody's doing what they think they're supposed to do.
I am writing this book because we're all going to die - In the loneliness of my own life, my father dead, my brother dead, my mother faraway, my sister and my wife far away, nothing here but my own tragic hands that once were guarded by a world, a sweet attention, that now are left to guide and disappear their own way into the common dark of all our deaths, sleeping in me raw bed, alone and stupid: with just this one pride and consolation: my broke heart in the general despair and opened up inwards to the Lord, I made a supplication in this dream
