Quotes About Recognition

It is still a surprise when people tell me that I've had an influence on them, particularly when it's someone I really respect.

Because you know when you first become famous, you start walking a little different because people are staring at you.

The great human law that in the end recognizes and rewards merit is everlasting and universal.

With few exceptions, the Negro youth must work harder and must perform his tasks even better than a with youth in order to secure recognition. But out of the hard and unusual struggle through which he is compelled to pass, he gets a strength, a confidence, that one missed whose pathway is comparatively smooth by reason of brith and race.

I said that any individual who learned to do something better than anybody else—learned to do a common thing in an uncommon manner—had solved his problem, regardless of the colour of his skin, and that in proportion as the Negro learned to produce what other people wanted and must have, in the same proportion would he be respected.

Every persecuted individual and race should get much consolation out of the great human law, which is universal and eternal, that merit, no matter under what skin found, is, in the long run, recognized and rewarded.

My experience is that there is something in human nature which always makes an individual recognize and reward merit, no matter under what colour of skin merit is found. I have found, too, that it is the visible, the tangible, that goes a long ways in softening prejudices. The actual sight of a first-class house that a Negro has built is ten times more potent than pages of discussion about a house that he ought to build, or perhaps could build.

The man who is known, and has the confidence of the public, can, if he does not allow himself to be fooled by his own popularity, accomplish a great deal more, perform a much greater public service, than the man whose name is unknown.

Booth Tarkington

Any man was likely to take it amiss if his name were remembered incorrectly, and there was absolutely no point in offending his subordinates unnecessarily.

The finest compliment that can be paid to a woman of sense is to address her as such.

The best evidence of merit is a cordial recognition of it whenever and wherever found.

Fame is a bitch, man.

A leader's job is not to put greatness into people, but rather to recognize that it already exists, and to create an environment where that greatness can emerge and grow.

They used an old internal Microsoft term to describe it: "cookie licking," or the act of claiming to do something before you actually do it, in order to capture notoriety and prevent others from following.

For the first time, Amazon was spoken in the same breath as Google and Apple—not as an afterthought, but as an equal. It had blasted off into high orbit.

Larry ended up being salutatorian of his class at Livingston High.

Oh, please." Hickory looked skeptical. "Your show is pure sensationalism. Tripe tabloid at its worst—" Wendy interrupted him. "We've met before, Mr. Hickory." That slowed him down. "Have we?" "When I was an assistant producer on A Current Affair. I booked you as an expert on the Robert Blake murder trial." He

Esperanza left. Win got up and gave Myron the chair. He stood on Myron's right, arms crossed, totally at ease. Green and Peck fidgeted. Myron turned to Eric Ford. "I don't think we've met." "But you know who I am," Ford said. He had one of those smooth soft-rock-DJ voices. "Yes." "And I know who you are," he said. "So what would be the point?" Oookay. Myron glanced back at Win. Win shrugged. Ford

Things become clichés because they are apropos." "Breaks

What about her?" Win shook his head. "God, Myron, you're such a sexist. And here she is now." Win looked toward the door. Myron did the same and immediately recognized the woman who'd entered. It was Brooke Baldwin, Win's cousin and, more to the point, mother of the still-missing Rhys. Myron hadn't seen Brooke in, what, five years, he surmised. A

The goateed Sandy Duncan bustled over again. He spoke with a French accent that sounded about as real as Pepe LePew's. "Monsieur Zuckermahn?" Norm

Now that she was closer, she could see that Hat Tilt looked like Jay-Z—if Jay-Z suddenly aged ten years and never worked out and was a pasty white guy trying to look like Jay-Z. "No

Two minutes later, Terese Collins—to use a purely transportational term—disembarked. She was casually decked out in a white blouse and green slacks. Her brown hair was up in a ponytail. People lightly elbowed one another, whispering and subtly gesturing, giving her that surreptitious glance, the one that says "I recognize you but don't want to appear fawning." Terese