Quickness Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
intelligence-is-quickness-in-seeing-things-as-they-are
quickness-is-essence-war
quickness-means-you-are-hustling-ehab-atalla
ive-always-believed-in-quickness-over-strength-size-dean-smith
why-did-lord-give-use-much-quickness-unless-it-was-to-avoid-responsibility-ogden-nash
i-have-to-use-my-strengths-which-are-my-speed-my-quickness-my-movements-if-i-do-that-i-really-believe-that-i-will-come-out-on-top-manny-pacquiao
forget-perfect-be-quick-quickness-kills-ehab-atalla
quickness-more-than-anything-else-should-determine-your-amount-pressure-on-ball-don-meyer
digital-for-storage-quickness-analog-for-fatness-warmth
her-quickness-mind-was-like-hiss-dart-lethal-bite-elena-ferrante
one-chief-characteristics-mob-is-its-quickness-it-is-sudden-it-pounces
theres-nothing-like-debate-to-teach-one-quickness-i-often-wish-i-had-gone-in-for-them-when-i-was-youngster-it-would-have-helped-me-no-end-e-m-forster
we-need-strength-we-need-energy-we-need-quickness-we-need-brain-in-this-country-to-turn-it-around-donald-trump
i-couldnt-have-been-great-goalkeeper-without-power-agility-quickness
as-athlete-i-used-my-speed-agility-quickness-to-go-out-play-against-big-guys
i-used-to-be-able-to-think-my-brains-circuits-were-all-connected-i-had-spark-quickness-mind-that-let-me-function-well-in-world
speed-is-great-asset-but-its-greater-when-its-combined-with-quickness-theres-big-difference-ty-cobb
i-have-no-great-quickness-apprehension-wit-which-is-remarkable-in-some-clever-men-for-instance-huxley-charles-darwin
the-power-doing-any-thing-with-quickness-is-always-much-prized-by-possessor-often-without-any-attention-to-imperfection-performance-mr-darcy-jane-austen
if-quickness-mind-fluency-tongue-are-too-punctilious-sharp-moderate-them-in-your-activity-rest
there-is-quickness-perception-in-some-nicety-in-discernment-character-natural-penetration-in-short-which-no-experience-in-others-can-equal-jane-austen
art-to-me-is-anecdote-spirit-only-means-making-concrete-purpose-its-varied-quickness-stillness
the-animadversions-critics-are-commonly-such-as-may-easily-provoke-sedatest-writer-to-some-quickness-resentment-asperity-reply-samuel-johnson
intelligence-is-quickness-to-apprehend-as-distinct-form-ability-which-is-capacity-to-act-wisely-on-the-thing-apprehended
men-great-parts-are-often-unfortunate-in-management-public-business-because-they-are-apt-to-go-out-common-road-by-quickness-their-imagination-jonathan-swift
the-quickness-flexibility-well-mind-belief-hope-that-things-will-eventually-sort-themselves-outthese-are-resources-lost-to-person-when-brain-kay-redfield-jamison
i-was-captain-should-have-set-example-i-would-lift-minimum-weights-mine-was-natural-physical-strength-i-always-thought-quickness-agility-were-merlin-olsen
he-was-built-for-this-position-god-must-love-steelers-to-put-him-in-his-mothers-womb-because-it-will-be-long-time-before-someone-comes-along-with-his-stature-size-speed-quickness
a-lot-improvisation-ends-up-being-about-just-thinking-outside-box-in-scene-its-not-improvisation-as-much-as-it-is-quickness-making-it-real-jason-sudeikis
no-i-said-finally-slowness-in-answering-she-said-into-handheld-whens-last-time-you-slept-1940-i-said-promptly-which-is-problem-with-quickness-in-connie-willis
people-compare-me-to-isiah-thomas-because-my-quickness-changedirection-way-i-change-speeds-run-team-baron-davis
legendary-innovators-like-franklin-snow-darwin-all-possess-some-common-intellectual-qualities-certain-quickness-mind-unbounded-curiositybut-they-also-share-one-other-defining-att
base-ball-to-be-played-thoroughly-requires-possession-muscular-strength-great-agility-quickness-eye-readiness-hand-many-other-faculties-mind-body-that-mark-man-nerve
doug-christie-what-skill-what-strenght-what-power-what-quickness-the-visionof-magic-johnson-athletisicm-michael-jordan-toughness-larry-bird-dough-bill-walton
bob-dylans-one-greatest-blues-singers-western-world-ancient-art-onspot-improvisation-mind-quickness-endless-variation-classical-formulae-prophetic-allen-ginsberg
i-love-those-guys-he-had-quickness-in-his-body-good-hands-hes-competitive-knowing-that-hes-competitive-athlete-is-90-percent-it-i-knew-he-would-be-good-player-pete-hughes
in-quickness-is-truth-the-more-swiftly-you-write-more-honest-you-are-in-hesitation-is-thought-in-delay-comes-effort-for-style-instead-leaping-upon-truth-which-is-only-style-worth
what-we-view-as-gods-absence-lack-quickness-to-change-our-circumstances-fix-our-problems-is-really-god-waiting-for-proper-time-to-act-on-our-behalf-while-simultaneously-waiting-f
we-are-all-built-differently-some-guys-are-more-powerful-some-guys-are-tall-im-not-tall-i-rely-on-quickness
She ran her hands, butterfly fashion, over the keys. "A little morsel of Stravinski?" she said. It was in the middle of the morsel that Adele came in and found Lucia playing Stravinski to Mr. Greatorex. The position seemed to be away, away beyond her orbit altogether, and she merely waited with undiminished faith in Lucia, to see what would happen when Lucia became aware to whom she was playing... It was a longish morsel, too: more like a meal than a morsel, and it was also remarkably like a muddle. Finally, Lucia made an optimistic attempt at the double chromatic scale in divergent directions which brought it to an end, and laughed gaily. "My poor fingers, " she said. "Delicious piano, dear Adele. I love a Bechstein; that was a little morsel of Stravinski. Hectic perhaps, do you think? But so true to the modern idea: little feverish excursions: little bits of tunes, and nothing worked out. But I always say that there is something in Stravinski, if you study him. How I worked at that little piece, and I'm afraid it's far from perfect yet." Lucia played one more little run with her right hand, while she cudgelled her brain to remember where she had seen this man before, and turned round on the music-stool. She felt sure he was an artist of some kind, and she did not want to ask Adele to introduce him, for that would look as if she did not know everybody. She tried pictures next. "In Art I always think that the Stravinski school is represented by the Post-Cubists, " she said. "They give us pattern in lines, just as Stravinski gives us patterns in notes, and the modern poet patterns in words. At Sophy Alingsby's the other night we had a feast of patterns. Dear Sophy-what a curious mixture of tastes! She cares only for the ultra-primitive in music, and the ultra-modern in Art. Just before you came in, Adele, I was trying to remember the first movement of Beethoven's Moonlight, those triplets though they look easy have to be kept so level. And yet Sophy considers Beethoven a positive decadent. I ought to have taken her to Diva's little concert-Diva Dalrymple-for I assure you really that Stravinski sounded classical compared to the rest of the programme. It was very creditably played, too. Mr.-" what was his name?-"Mr Greatorex." She had actually said the word before her brain made the connection. She gave her little peal of laughter. "Ah, you wicked people, " she cried. "A plot: clearly a plot. Mr. Greatorex, how could you? Adele told you to come in here when she heard me begin my little strummings, and told you to sit down and encourage me. Don't deny it, Adele! I know it was like that. I shall tell everybody how unkind you've been, unless Mr. Greatorex sits down instantly and magically restores to life what I have just murdered." Adele denied nothing. In fact there was no time to deny anything, for Lucia positively thrust Mr. Greatorex on to the music stood, and instantly put on her rapt musical face, chin in hand, and eyes looking dreamily upwards. There was Nemesis, you would have thought, dealing thrusts at her, but Nemesis was no match for her amazing quickness. She parried and thrust again, and here-what richness of future reminiscence-was Mr. Greatorex playing Stravinski to her, before no audience but herself and Adele who really didn't count, for the only tune she liked was "Land of Hope and Glory"... Great was Lucia!

E.F. Benson
she-ran-her-hands-butterfly-fashion-over-keys-a-little-morsel-stravinski-she-said-it-was-in-middle-morsel-that-adele-came-in-found-lucia-playing-stravinski-to-mr-greatorex-the-po
For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow. Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail. A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live. When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all. A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother. So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.

Hermann Hesse
for-me-trees-have-always-been-most-penetrating-preachers-i-revere-them-when-they-live-in-tribes-families-in-forests-groves-and-even-more-i-revere-them-when-they-stand-alone-they-
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