I grew to resent the way my father treated his furniture like children, and his children like furniture.
The roar of the crowd has always been the sweetest music. It's intoxicating.
That is the way this game is -- you win, you lose, you celebrate and you suffer.
In a year that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened…
I've always felt, it's a gift of God, whatever I have, whatever has made me do what I do for as long as I do it. But I know I can lose that in one second. A stroke. Whatever. One second. Blow the whole thing. So, when you do think about that, you realize how fortunate and how blessed you've been, and that's really how I feel.
As long as you live keep smiling because it brightens everybody's day.
Statistics are used much like a drunk uses a lamppost: for support, not illumination.
I can make the argument that people who don't have the biggest ranges but have very unique voices, even if they may be pitchy at times. . . with the right record that's really unique and distinct, they can have big hits.
We're still dancing to tunes created by men who thought that a thunderstorm was a sig of God's anger.
When I see everyone rushing in one direction, I know it's time to move the other way.
Sit not down without assurance. Get alone, and bring thy heart to the bar of trial: force it to answer the interrogatories put to it to set the qualifications of the saints on one side, and the qualifications of thyself on the other side, and then judge what resemblance there is between them. . . . Yet be sure thou judge by a true touchstone, and mistake not the Scripture description of a saint, that thou neither acquit nor condemn thyself by mistake.