I felt that film (Let It Be) was set up by Paul for Paul. That is one of the main reasons the Beatles ended. I can't speak for George, but I pretty damn well know we got fed up of being sidemen for Paul. After Brian died, that's what happened, that's what began to happen to us. The camera work was set up to show Paul and not anybody else. And that's how I felt about it.
Also, there's the caliber of actors that we keep getting. Lorraine Bracco plays my mom and Chazz Palminteri plays my father, and Brian Dennehy and Donnie Wahlberg have been on the show. And, we've got Billy Burke from Twilight. We've gotten all kinds of fantastic actors. That speaks for itself.
There is a young fella who works for me, named Brian Unkeless, who's very smart. We're a very small company that has been Brian and me and two assistants, although we're growing a little bit now. He read the [The Hunger Games] book and loved it, and told me I should read it. He had been a fan of the Gregor books. So, I read it and couldn't put it down and couldn't stop thinking about it. I really became obsessed with the thought of producing it, and was completely bothered by the idea that anybody but me could produce it.
So what if Brian made me feel like fireworks were going off inside me. He could also make me feel like a big fat clod of heartsick dirt. It was like he could take any emotion I had and make it ten times stronger. Which is great when it's happiness but pretty darn awful if it's anything sad.
Catherine Gilbert Murdock
Neglect of prayer to God makes our faith weak, useless, and weakens spiritual desires. To maintain holiness prayer is essential. you do not have to miss weeks of communion with Him to lose holiness, and have to seek for forgiveness by seeking for salvation. The biggest problem with keeping holy is what I call the yo yo syndrome. A repeated process of asking God to save us. Walking with God for a season then start letting up in the prayer closet. Then do the same process over, and over again. To be honest you will never be stable spiritually with a inconsistent prayer life. One of the biggest hindrances to holiness is a lackadaisical attitude to do it tomorrow. Putting of for tomorrow what we can do Today! I went through this vicious cycle of wanting to serve God with all of my heart; but I was hitting amiss. Struggling to meet the conditions of holiness is not His will for us. Being holy is God's standard. Be Ye Holy as God is Holy, To keep sanctified you have to reprogram your thinking. Serving God is a privileged that God offers to all people. Fall in love with Jesus and serve him because He first loved us. Read at least two chapters a day, more if possible. Talk to God as you would with your closest friend, for Jesus is our best friend in the world. When your doing all these things there is no doubt that salvation will lead into sanctification. Surrendering to God everything including doubt, fear of falling, past, present, future, family, and friends. He eradicates the carnal nature that pulls away from holiness. He puts within us a nature that is compatible with his holy character, and disposition. Today we need to follow God in the beauty of holiness. Which, has no trace of confusion, envy, hatred, or division. That would make one a servant of the devil. Instead become God's faithful servant for He is a loving, caring, and Holy God. _ Bryan Guras Brian Orton, Lisa Orton and Dorsie Bowser Buzard like this.. Bryan Guras Write a comment... Neglect of prayer to God makes our faith weak, useless, and weakens spiritual desires. To maintai We s
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I think probably kindness is my number one attribute in a human being. I'll put it before any of the things like courage or bravery or generosity or anything else. Brian Sibley: Or brains even? Oh gosh, yes, brains is one of the least. You can be a lovely person without brains, absolutely lovely. Kindness - that simple word. To be kind - it covers everything, to my mind. If you're kind that's it.
As a journalist, I can also now understand his (Patrick O'Brian's)idea that the QandA is not particularly civilized - let alone a sports media press scrum. The formats don't necessarily further understanding between two people. It is not always true conversation - a discussion that unearths nuggets of insight. It too often seems like interviewers are running through a pre-fab checklist, looking for a Tweetable quote, trolling for a gaffe, or ticking off pre-conceived points like those on a medical checklist at the doctor's office. It can feel invasive, like a trip to the proctologist - in front of an audience.
A lot of excellent illustrators are working at the moment-especially in fantasy and children's books. It is exciting also to see graphic artists such as Dave McKean, in his film Mirrormask, moving between different media. I also greatly admire the more traditional work of Gennady Spirin and Roberto Innocenti. Kinuko Craft, John Jude Palencar, John Howe, Charles Vess, Brian Froud... I'll stop there, as the list would get too long. But-in a fit of pride and justified nepotism-I'll add my daughter, Virginia Lee, to the list. Her first illustrated children's book, The Frog Bride [coming out in the U.K. in September, 2007], will be lovely.
I'd like you to come to Kauai with me, ' I say. 'And Scottie. I think it would be good to get her away from the hospital for a day. We can leave in the morning, find him, and be home tomorrow night. If it takes us a day longer, that's fine, but we won't stay more than two nights. That's our deadline. If we don't find him, then at least we know we tried.' 'And this will make you feel better somehow?' 'It's for her, ' I say. 'Not for him or me.' 'What if he's a wreck? What if he loses his shit?' 'Then I'll take care of him.' I imagine Brian Speer wailing on my shoulder. I imagine him and my daughters by Joanie's bed, her lover and his loud sobs shaming us. 'Just so you know, I am angry. I'm not this pure and noble guy. I want to do this for her, but I also want to see who he is. I want to ask him a few things.' 'Just call him. Tell his office it's an emergency. They'll have him call you.' 'I want to tell him in person. I haven't told anyone over the phone, and I don't want to start now.' 'You told Troy.' 'Troy doesn't count. I just need to do this. On the phone he can escape. If I see him in person, he'll have nowhere to go.' We both look away when our eyes meet. She hasn't crossed the border into my room. She never does during her nighttime doorway chats. 'Were you guys having trouble?' Alex asks. 'Is that why she cheated?' 'I didn't think we were having trouble, ' I say. 'I mean, it was the same as always.' This was the problem, that our marriage was the same as always. Joanie needed bumps. She needed rough terrain. It's funny that I can get lost in thoughts about her, but when she was right in front of me, I didn't think much about her at all. 'I wasn't the best husband, ' I say. Alex looks out the window to avoid my confession. 'If we go on this trip, what will we tell Scottie?' 'She'll think we're going on a trip of some sort. I want to get her away from here.
Kaui Hart Hemmings
Before long, everyone was giving him answers, and feeling a little superior, because it was really remarkable the number of things Chrestomanci seemed not to know. He had heard of Hitler, though he asked Brian to refresh his memory about him, but he had only the haziest notion about Gandhi or Einstein, and he had never heard of Walt Disney or reggae.
Diana Wynne Jones
Tiffany jumped when she saw a balloon sail up above the trees, catch the wind, and swoop away, but it turned out to be just a balloon and not a lump of excess Brian. She could tell this because it was followed by a long scream of rage mixed with a roar of complaint: 'AAaargwannawannaaaagongongonaargggaaaaBLOON!' which is the traditional sound of a very small child learning that with balloons, as with life itself, it is important to know when not to let go of the string. The whole point of balloons is to teach small children this.
Dialogue in the works of autobiography is quite naturally viewed with some suspicion. How on earth can the writer remember verbatim conversations that happened fifteen, twenty, fifty years ago? But 'Are you playing, Bob?' is one of only four sentences I have ever uttered to any Arsenal player (for the record the others are 'How's the leg, Bob?' to Bob Wilson, recovering from injury the following season; 'Can I have your autograph, please?' to Charlie George, Pat Rice, Alan Ball and Bertie Mee; and, well, 'How's the leg, Brian?' to Brian Marwood outside the Arsenal club shop when I was old enough to know better) and I can therefore vouch for its absolute authenticity.
I forgot that Mark and Brian are gardening for you now. "You're the master gardener. So you are in charge of them. But as a dragon-shifter, I want to do what you do. Ena smiled. You want to earn the kind of treasure that I do. But you would have to learn the trade. Right! You can be my teacher. I need to earn my own way if I'm going to court you. How will I ever be able to buy you the most extravagant gifts when I am still trying to pay off my boots and other clothes?
Not strictly one of mine, but worth repeating! A very forceful old lady in these parts, when referring to the eight novels of the Angel Mountain Saga, was heard to say: "You know them books by that fellow Brian John? If I was you I wouldn't believe a single word. Take it from me. It's lies - all lies!
It's no secret that I love driving sports car and especially racing in the Rolex 24. Brian has been generous enough to let me share this ride, and it's pretty cool to have Boris as a teammate as well. Boris is a tremendous road-racer and he has proved he can win in anything he races. Brian is a competitor, too, but more importantly, he's just a great guy. I'm excited about this weekend.
As designers, Brian and I both have a love and appreciation of craftsmanship and of making things that are not only beautiful, but work for the environment and the client's particular needs. A lot of the time, architecture is designed for the architect. It's sterile, it doesn't respond to the environment, to surrounding buildings, and a lot of the time it doesn't even function for the client. At Isosceles, we do client-focused design, and that makes all the difference.
You know what she's made of." "Yeah, good stock, good breeding, a hard head and a hunger to win." She flashed him a smile as they approached the kitchen door. "I've been told that describes me. I'm half Irish, Brian, I was born stubborn." "No arguing with that. A person might make the world a calmer place for others by being passive, but you don't get very far in it yourself, do you?" "Look at that. We have a foundation of agreement. Now tell me you like spaghetti and meatballs." "It happens to be a favorite of mine." "That's handy. Mine, too. And I heard a rumor that's what's for dinner." She reached for the doorknob, then caught him off guard by brushing a light kiss over his lips. "And since we'll be joining my parents, it would probably be best if you didn't imagine me naked for the next couple of hours." She sailed in ahead of him, leaving Brian helplessly and utterly aroused.
Will, was not as taken with the photo of the new baby as the grown ups around him. 'It look like Mr. Potato Head.' 'I'm sure your baby sister will appreciate that, ' Alessandro said with a wry grin. 'A girl? It's a girl?' Will asked with a grimace. 'That's right, ' Bree announced as Vanessa and Brian congratulated them. 'I can play wif Gianni but what we gonna do wif a girl?' he asked, handing the picture back to them. 'Nope, send it back and get another boy dis time.
Hello, darling, ' Alessandro smiled at her. Oh, that smile. Bree wanted to close her eyes, press her hands against her eyes and keep them shut forever so she wouldn't see that smile. She must have had the question on her face, the knowledge on her face because as she looked at him now, something flickered in his eyes. Guilt. Oh God. 'Mommy, look. I make good bouncies. See?' Will said, dribbling the ball. 'I gonna be a basset ball player when I gwoed up.' The little boy's voice sounded far away as Bree narrowed in on Alessandro and the look in his eyes. 'Brian. I want you and Vanessa to take Will and Gianni out for a little while.' 'Oh but we're having a good time out here, aren't we Gianni?' Alessandro asked, tickling Gianni who squealed and curled inward. 'Now, ' Bree said, her voice tight. Will stopped bouncing the ball and held it against his chest looking at both of them, picking up on the angry tension that suddenly covered them all. 'Uh oh. I tink mommy's mad.' 'I'm not leaving you alone in your condition, Bree. Alessandro, we just came from the hospital. Colin's awake, ' Brian informed him, his voice tight with anger. 'You spoke to Colin?' Alessandro asked, meeting Bree's eyes. 'I did. And Carrie.' He looks like a cornered animal. And what do Dardanos do when they're cornered? They lie. They cheat. Oh God. 'Fine, then can you just take the boys upstairs?' Bree said, speaking to Brian, but not moving her gaze from her husband. 'Come on, guys. Let's go play upstairs for a while, ' Vanessa said walking past Bree and taking Gianni from Alessandro's lap.
Bree grit her teeth and lunged for him but Brian held her back and Will spoke up instead. 'You go away!' Will cried back angrily. 'I know you did sumting dat made my mommy mad at my daddy. Is you fault!' 'I suggest you put a muzzle on your brat and get back in the living room, ' Bernardo ordered. 'Careful, Father. This is none of your concern, ' Alessandro said. 'Are you kidding me?' Bree asked. 'Of course this is his concern because he's the only one you give a damn about. You'll do anything for him. Absolutely anything even if it means betraying me or Will or God forbid Gianni.' 'That is not true. I would never-' 'It is true!' Bree yelled. 'Everything you've done has proven that.' 'Look, every marriage has problems and that is no reason to turn back on the vows you made to each other, ' Bernardo pointed out. 'You made a promise to honor the terms of the O'Reiley/Dardano vendetta. Be careful before you renege on those vows, Mrs. Dardano.' 'You and your stupid vendetta!' Bree hissed. 'Begun by a man who couldn't handle the fact that he couldn't have what he wanted! God it must be genetic. Well, I guess I shouldn't blame you, Alessandro. Knowing Bernardo and Adriano, at least you come by it honestly.
Come see my mommy, Becky!' Will said and Bree stopped in her tracks. 'Oh hell no!' she exclaimed staring at 'Becky'. Rebecca, the bane of Bree's existence. The blonde woman smiled mockingly at Bree. 'How ya doing?' 'What?' Bree asked but the question was directed at her brother and not the skank in front of her. 'So how was Paris?' Rebecca asked moving right past Bree to practically press her body against Alessandro. 'Seriously, what?' Bree demanded, glaring at Brian. "Hey, Alessandro. Great to see you again." 'Stop talking. Stop talking now before I ram your botoxed head through this table!' Bree hissed lunging at her. Brian grabbed her quickly and held her back. 'Sorry. Bree's a little bit touchy about that whole Vegas thing I guess. But hey, looks like it all worked for the best, huh?' Rebecca winked at Alessandro
Brian came in heavy at that moment on his guitar, the rapid, high-pitched squeal ranging back and forth as his fingers flew along the frets. As the intro's tempo grew more rapid, Bekka heard Derek's subtle bass line as it worked its way in. After another few seconds Will came in, slow at first, but racing along to match the others' pace. When their combined efforts seemed unable to get any heavier, David jumped into the mix. As the sound got nice and heavy, Bekka began to rock back-and-forth onstage. In front of her, hundreds of metal-lovers began to jump and gyrate to their music. She matched their movements for a moment, enjoying the connection that was being made, before stepping over to the keyboard that had been set up behind her. Sliding her microphone into an attached cradle, she assumed her position and got ready. Right on cue, all the others stopped playing, throwing the auditorium into an abrupt silence. Before the crowd could react, however, Bekka's fingers began to work the keys, issuing a rhythm that was much softer and slower than what had been built up. The audience's violent thrash-dance calmed at that moment and they began to sway in response. Bekka smiled to herself. This is what she lived for.
Imagine life as a game in which you are juggling some five balls in the air. You name them -work, family, health, friends and spirit and you're keeping all of these in the air. You will soon understand that work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will bounce back. But the other four balls - family, health friends and spirit are made of glass. If you drop one of these, they will be irrevocably scuffed, marked, nicked, damaged or even shattered. They will never be the same. You must understand that and strive for balance in your life." Brian Dyson, former vice chairman and COO of Coca-Cola.
These were good people and they had been good to us and we had therefore had a good time. To conclude otherwise was frightening, raising the specter of some unnameable quantity without which we could not abide, but which we could not summon on demand, least of all by proceeding in virtuous accordance with an established formula. You regarded redemption as an act of will. You disparaged people (people like me) for their cussedly nonspecific dissatisfactions, because to fail to embrace the simple fineness of being alive betrayed a weakness of character. You always hated finicky eaters, hypochondriacs, and snobs who turned their noses up at Terms of Endearment just because it was popular. Nice eats, nice place, nice folks- what more could I possibly want? Besides, the good life doesn't knock on the door. Joy is a job. So if you believed with sufficient industry that we had had a good time with Brian and Louise in theory, then we would have had a good time in fact. The only hint that in truth you'd found our afternoon laborous was that your enthusiasm was excessive.
Their home was nice, the food was nice, the girls were nice - nice, nice, nice. I disappointed myself by finding our perfectly pleasant lunch with perfectly pleasant people inadequate. [... ] These were good people and they had been good to us and we had therefore had a good time. To conclude otherwise was frightening, raising the specter of some unnameable quantity without which we could not abide, but which we could not summon on demand, least of all by proceeding in virtuous accordance with an established formula. You regarded redemption as an act of will. You disparaged people (people like me) for their cussedly nonspecific dissatisfactions, because to fail to embrace the simple fineness of being alive betrayed a weakness of character. You always hated finicky eaters, hypochondriacs, and snobs who turned their noses up at Terms of Endearment just because it was popular. Nice eats, nice place, nice folks- what more could I possibly want? Besides, the good life doesn't knock on the door. Joy is a job. So if you believed with sufficient industry that we had had a good time with Brian and Louise in theory, then we would have had a good time in fact. The only hint that in truth you'd found our afternoon laborious was that your enthusiasm was excessive.
I remember being a teenager and being ashamed of my musical tastes, at least some of them. My Brian Wilson and Beach Boys fandom, which is as important to me as anything else, was almost like a porn stash. Hide that shit, someone's coming! You couldn't look like me and be black in West Philadelphia and love the Beach Boys the way I did.
Ahmir Questlove Thompson
As soon as we thought it would really be funny to have a fish for a gym coach, it popped in our heads, she's gotta have a really gruff voice because she's a gym coach. The first thing that came to mind was Brian Doyle Murray and we thought, well let's see if he'd be interested, and he said yes.
Oh, man, there was this screening the other night. One of the special nights of your life where you feel ... I mean, this was at the Warner Bros. screening room and you had Dan Rather there and Tom Brokaw, Brian Williams, Andy Rooney ... Walter Cronkite gave a speech at the party afterward. And everyone seemed to like it ... Bill O'Reilly ...
You're never lost. You always know exactly where you are. You're right here. It's just that sometimes you've misplaced your destination. Brian W. Porter 2005 Have you ever wondered how the computer you're using got to the store? How about your medicines, the food you eat, the clothes you wear, the furniture, the plants in the garden center? Do they have a railroad right there? Does merchandise magically appear? Only if you grow your own food, make your own clothes, make your own tools, cut your own wood, and make your own furniture, can you get away from trucking. Everything you see, even the nature outside in some places, has been on at least one truck.
Brian W. Porter
I notice he doesn't have his meteorite bag and see out the window it's probably going to pour any minute, but wee need to et out of here. Immediately. "We're going to search for meteorites, " I say, like that's what most people do on winter mornings. I never really told either of them too much about last summer, which is reflected in both of their flummoxed faces. But who freaking cares? Not us. In a flash, we're through the door, across the street and into the woods, running for no reason and laughing for no reason and totally out of breath and out of our minds when Brian catches me by my shirt, whips me around, and with one strong hand flat against my chest, he pushes me against a tree and kisses me so hard I go blind.
Brian knows the affair is wrong. He's known from the moment Wendy first undressed in his office. But with her hot, wet tongue in his ear, and her taut, pink nipples straining against his starched white shirt, and with Mick Jagger's strident voice squawking about satisfaction on the tiny transistor radio, Brian's body refuses to obey. Instead of shoving Wendy out the door, he shoves her onto the unmade bed.
The problem is that stepping away from Brian, leaving him standing under that pergola on Wednesday, is no longer enough to leave behind how he made me feel in that hour. I could leave him there, we could part as strangers, but God, I know that I would look for him. He would live in my peripheral vision, a ghost nudging me to turn and look behind me, only to find a spot that is emptier than empty
Mary Ann Rivers
I don't reckon it's allowed, going round setting fire to people, ' said Adam. 'Otherwise people'd be doin' it all the time.' 'It's all right if you're religious, ' said Brian reassuringly. 'And it stops the witches from goin' to Hell, so I expect they'd be quite grateful if they understood it properly.
The misfortune of a young man who returns to his native land after years away is that he finds his native land foreign; whereas the lands he left behind remain for ever like a mirage in his mind. However, misfortune can itself sow seeds of creativity. - Afterword to "Hothouse" Brian Aldiss
Brian W. Aldiss
As a journalist, I can also now understand his (Patrick O'Brian's)idea that the Q&A is not particularly civilized - let alone a sports media press scrum. The formats don't necessarily further understanding between two people. It is not always true conversation - a discussion that unearths nuggets of insight. It too often seems like interviewers are running through a pre-fab checklist, looking for a Tweetable quote, trolling for a gaffe, or ticking off pre-conceived points like those on a medical checklist at the doctor's office. It can feel invasive, like a trip to the proctologist - in front of an audience.
The same tantalizing guile and sublime skill....[The series is] reinforced in its claim to be one of the major literary works of this century....Only two other writers that this reviewer can think of have each created an entire, discrete and compelling world, a totally believable entity which one might wish to inhabit, and they are Joyce and Proust. It is not pretentious to place Patrick O'Brian in the first canon of literature....
Peeping through my keyhold I see within the range of only about 30 percent of the light that comes from the sun; the rest is infrared and some little ultraviolet, perfectly apparent to many animals, but invisible to me. A nightmare network of ganglia, charged and firing without my knowledge, cuts and splices what I see, editing it for my brain. Donald E. Carr points out that the sense impressions of one-celled animals are not edited for the brian: 'This is philosophically interesting in a rather mournful way, since it means that only the simplest animals perceive the universe as it is.
The misfortune of a young man who returns to his native land after years away is that he finds his native land foreign; whereas the lands he left behind remain for ever like a mirage in his mind. However, misfortune can itself sow seeds of creativity. ---- Afterword to "Hothouse" Brian Aldiss
There's magic to love... Millions of years ago we evolved three basic drives: the sex love, romantic love, and attachment to a long-term partner. These circuits are deeply embedded in the human brian. They're going to survive as long as our species survive on what Shakespeare called, this "mortal coil."
What's that?' Beck shoved his back ineffectually against the glass door, suffering under the weight of a huge box. 'Your brian.' I already have a brain.' If you did, you'd have opened the door for me.' I shot him a dark look and let him shove against the door a moment longer before I ducked under his arms to push it open. 'What is it really?' Schoolbooks. We're going to educate you properly, so you don't grow up to be an idiot.; I remembered by intrigued by the idea of school-in-a-box, just-add-water-and-Sam.
When I look at founders and CEOs like Mark Zuckerberg at Facebook and Brian Chesky at Airbnb and Sebastian Thrun at Udacity, these are companies that are creating extraordinary social good and extraordinary economic and educational empowerment, all within with context of a for-profit model.
Head coach of the England team demands management skills that Brian does not have. We had a head coach who wanted one thing, other coaches who wanted other things. The players hadn't a clue what was going on. Somehow we'd managed to turn our World Cup campaign into a Monty Python sketch - called The Life of Brian.
I was never too interested in high school. I mean, I never went to a dance, I never went out on a date, I never went steady. It became pretty awful for me. Except, of course, I could go see bands, and that was the kick. I used to go to Cleveland just to see any band. So I was in love a lot of the time, but mostly with guys in bands that I had never met. For me, knowing that Brian Jones was out there, and later that Iggy Pop was out there, made it kind of hard for me to get too interested in the guys that were around me. I had, uh, bigger things in mind.
I'm the one who started spreading that particular factoid, about Bendis, Azz and me all being bald Brian's from Cleveland, just to get my name mentioned in the same sentence as two much-better writers, and it's worked like a goddamn charm. Next up, I'm going to grow a big, disgusting beard, just so people will start talking about Alan Moore and me in the same breath.
Brian K. Vaughan
My friends are trying to get me to go out on blind dates. Big 'NO' to that because all my friends are a bunch of lying geeks. They're always like, 'Brian, you're really gonna dig this girl. She's got Traci Lords' eyes, Michelle Pfeiffer's nose, Kim Basinger's lips.' Yeah, they always forget to tell me she's also got Charlie Brown's head.
I love music/sounds that have a passion, a fire, an energy I can connect with. I love angry sounding beat tracks, dark sounds for sure but I also love delicate sounds, they both connect I think. Discharge back in 1980 was a big explosion in sound for me to hear the anger and the energy, still an influence on me. Miles Davis has been an influence, as much as John Coltrane, Brian Eno, John Hassel. So much around me has influenced me: my everyday life, everything around me, the family, etc.... It has an impact.
THE LONG WALK is a raw, wrenching, blood-soaked chronicle of the human cost of war. Brian Castner, the leader of a military bomb disposal team, recounts his deployment to Iraq with unflinching candor, and in the process exposes crucial truths not only about this particular conflict, but also about war throughout history. Castner's memoir brings to mind Erich Maria Remarque's masterpiece, All Quiet on the Western Front.