To be honest, I think kids have got a lot more going on than adults. They've got their heads screwed on a lot better.
On the show, I do a very serious thing. And a lot of people have a hard time reconciling that with what I'm going to do after the show. They can't get it into their heads: "How can he be talking to Madeleine Albright one minute and then somebody half his age. . . . " They're just jealous. But I never made any bones about it. I am a player. Always have been.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
If you look up 'Intelligence' in the new volumes of the Encyclopeadia Britannica, you'll find it classified under the following three heads: Intelligence, Human; Intelligence, Animal; Intelligence, Military. My stepfather's a perfect specimen of Intelligence, Military.
Surely if God had meant us to do yoga, he would have put our heads behind our knees.
Few ever see what is not already inside their heads.
Someone once wrote that in between the lives we lead and the lives we fantasize about living is the place in our heads where most of us actually live.
I think that show will go down in history. . . people will scratch their heads and say 'How did this ever get on the air?' I mean, they finally have a planet that's populated with a black race and then they present them as savage warriors, and the men want the white girl!
A younger sister is someone to use as a guinea-pig in trying sledges and experimental go-carts. Someone to send on messages to Mum. But someone who needs you - who comes to you with bumped heads, grazed knees, tales of persecution. Someone who trusts you to defend her. Someone who thinks you know the answers to almost everything.
I believe you can frighten people without showing their heads caved-in.
Every betrayal contains a perfect moment, a coin stamped heads or tails with salvation on the other side.
Milton, Madam, was a genius that could cut a Colossus from a rock; but could not carve heads upon cherry-stones.
Life's a freaking mess. In fact, I'm going to tell Sarah we need to start a new philosophical movement: messessentialism instead of existentialism: For those who revel in the essential mess that is life. Because Gram's right, there's not one truth ever, just a bunch of stories, all going on at once, in our heads, in our hearts, all getting in the way of each other. It's all a beautiful calamitous mess. It's like the day Mr. James took us into the woods and cried triumphantly, "That's it! That's it!" to the dizzying cacophony of soloing instruments trying to make music together. That is it.
The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, all on a hot summer's day. The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts. The mad Queen said, "Off with his head! Off with his head! Off with his head!" Well. . . that's too bad. . . no more heads to cut.
On TV, talking heads wrung their hands over a lack of traditional feminine values and wondered if girls’ sports were to blame. Then they cut to a commercial featuring a sexy college coed vacuuming her dorm room in her underwear.
Not that I'm against sneaking some notions into people's heads upon occasion. (Or blasting them in outright.
A good heart is better than all the heads in the world.
We have to make sure that women's issues are an essential element on the agendas of all heads of state, all governments.
People wonder why I go out with models with nothing between their heads
What is already woven cannot be undone. It will not make the trees grow again for you to bring the building down on our heads.