The idea that any performer type is owed anything is a joke to me.
God gave me a talent to draw. I 'owed' it to him to develop the talent.
No one asked me to be an actor, so no one owed me. There was no entitlement.
When I was in N. W. A. and didn't get paid all the money I was owed, that's when the business side of showbiz hit me.
If you loved someone, you couldn’t let lies come between you. No matter what happened—even if you’d already lost each other forever—you owed each other the truth.
Just because I write some songs about bad women, though, that doesn't mean I hate women. I've written songs that show great love and respect for women too. Songs that talk about strong, upstanding women and their pain. I have women working on my music. They understand where I'm coming from. So does my mama. I always play my music for her before it comes out. Why do you think I wrote "Dear Mama"? I wrote it for my mama because I love her and I felt I owed her something deep.
When I was born I owed twelve dollars.
The subject matter of Entitlement remains relevant. Entitlement is an attitude: it is the assumption, I am owed what I get. It's a nasty attitude because people are not grateful for what they get. Instead, greed prevails and is expressed as, What have you done for me lately?
It was better that we never apologized to each other. Then we'd be admitting that we were wrong and we owed each other something. That's where people got into trouble.
No one can obtain felicity by pursuit. This explains why one of the elements of being happy is the feeling that a debt of gratitude is owed, a debt impossible to pay. Now, we do not owe gratitude to ourselves. To be conscious of gratitude is to acknowledge a gift.
Many of the greatest men have owed their success to industry rather than to cleverness.
Even the development of the steam engine owed but little to the advancement of science.
If people work for me over the years, I expect them to be paid what they're owed, but I don't expect them to be paid more than they earn.
I so owed Arianna, that undead little genius.
Your strength is just an accident owed to the weakness of others.
Look your audience straight in the eyes, and begin to talk as if every one of them owed you money.
He was not only, I soon discovered, a water drinker, but a strict vegetarian, to which, perhaps, he owed a great deal of the almost preternatural clearness, volubility, and sensitiveness of mind.
If there is anything in us, it is not our own; it is a gift of God. But if it is a gift of God, then it is entirely a debt one owes to love, that is, to the law of Christ. And if it is a debt owed to love, then I must serve others with it, not myself.
And I agreed, but still, she owed us an explanation. If she was up there, down there, out there, somewhere, maybe she would laugh.
Maybe I was naïve to think that silence was implicit complacence, instead of a festering question. Maybe I was silly to believe that friends owed each other anything.