It's a morality that keeps humans human.
Music keeps people sane.
For my part. . . I am a realist but, somehow, optimism always keeps breaking out.
Selfishness keeps man blind through life.
. . . she's leaving now. . . . Janis attacks the back door of the school gym and finds herself in a heavy cloud of smoke. She realizes she's found the Goths' hangout. Who knew? "Oof," someone says. She keeps walking, muttering, "sorry" to whomever it was she hit with the flying door. *** Cabel:. . . That was the Goth stage where I decided I'd never get the girl of my dreams because of my scars. Not to mention the hairstyle. (pause) But then she slammed a door handle into my gut. And, when a girl does that to a boy, it means she likes him.
Herman Melville is not comforting. Emily Dickinson isn’t either. Maybe their work is too hungry for comfort, or just too vivid for comfort. But Henry James is – profoundly so. Because he is tender. The tenderness is there in the structure of the sentence. He knows the way the poor and the dead are forgotten by the living, and he cannot allow that to happen. So he keeps on writing for them, for the dead, as if they were children to be sheltered and loved, never abandoned.
The superior leader keeps informed about everything but interferes hardly at all.
Stress from blogging keeps me up at night.
Your ignorance keeps dismembering every piece of patience I have left.
And she keeps saying, how can you do this to me? And i want to scream, what do you mean, how can I do this to you? Aren't we confusing our pronouns here? The question, really, is How could I do this to myself?
The average is the borderline that keeps mere men in their place. Those who step over the line are heroes by the very act. Go.
We shall never be content until each man makes his own weather and keeps it to himself.
There's always the feeling of getting stronger. I think that's what keeps me going.
When you are conjoined at the head with another person, it is so frustrating and so painful that you hate the person who keeps you all the time attached to himher, but heshe also hates you.
I have a girlfriend and she really keeps me grounded. Makes me normal.
I doubt God keeps track of how many arguments we win; God may indeed keep track of how well we love.
I have always thought of poems as stepping stones in one's own sense of oneself. Every now and again, you write a poem that gives you self-respect and steadies your going a little bit farther out in the stream. At the same time, you have to conjure the next stepping stone because the stream, we hope, keeps flowing.
Good music just makes me happy and keeps me from getting distracted.
Fate keeps on happening.
You have an internal critic, an internal drive that says, 'OK, you can do more. ' Maybe that's what keeps you going.