When I go and work with people, I never say, 'Your dog is changed for the rest of its life. ' It's like a diet. You've got to maintain a discipline and ritual in your life to keep a certain figure.
I'm not buddy-buddy with the players. If they need a buddy, let them buy a dog.
Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go ten thousand miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights?
Suppose I grant that pigs and dogs are self-aware to some degree, and do have thoughts about things in the future. That would provide some reason for thinking it intrinsically wrong to kill them - not absolutely wrong, but perhaps quite a serious wrong. Still, there are other animals - chickens maybe, or fish - who can feel pain but don't have any self-awareness or capacity for thinking about the future. For those animals, you haven't given me any reason why painless killing would be wrong, if other animals take their place and lead an equally good life.
I think my message goes out to the entire spectrum of political parties. I'm supported by the Tea Party, the Conservative Party and the Republican Party. I come from a Democratic world. My world is moderate Democrats, Reagan-type Democrats if you want, the blues or whatever you call them, the Blue Dogs. That's been my world, historically.
Never have I experienced a serenity and sweetness of disposition as with my Chocolate Lab.
The more I know about men the more I like dogs.
I do honor the very flea of his dog.
I had rather see the portrait of a dog that I know, than all the allegorical paintings they can show me in the world.
My father. . . was a man who understood all dogs thoroughly and treated them like human beings.
My dogs, the only creatures on the planet marked by my singular nurturing imprint, have all turned out to be rude and self-absorbed. In all likelihood, if they were children instead of dogs, I would have foisted more Charlie Sheens or Kardashians onto our crumbling culture.
There's nothing that I love more than predawn. I'm with the dogs, I make coffee, and there's no one up.
It's all about how bad you want to come back. (The Achilles' is) not tight anymore. I'm like a wild dog about getting back on the field. I'm hungrier than I've ever been.
If my life was a song it would be 'Who Let The Dogs Out'.
[The] zero-sum caricature [applies] much more accurately to socialism, which stifles the creation of new wealth and thus fosters a dog-eat-dog struggle over existing material resources.
Right now, any opinion anyone has about whether dogs can or cannot really tell when their owner is coming home by some unknown means. . . nobody knows. The weight of evi dence suggests they can.
Journalism is to politician as dog is to lamp-post.
Beat and cuff your slave, keep him hungry and spiritless, and he will follow the chain of his master like a dog. Feed and clothe him well, work him moderately, surround him with physical comfort and dreams of freedom intrude.
I know Sir John will go, though he was sure it would rain cats and dogs.
A plot is two dogs and one bone.