Quotes About Head

If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing.

Songwriting is a very frustrating art form. You have to get on tape exactly what's playing inside your head

I think it's always hard for people to get their head around the fact that populist, commercial films can also actually be great works of art.

The arts can bring the heart to the aid of the head, the personal to the political.

He who works with his hands is a laborer.He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman.He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.

[Poetry] was a form of incantation, a means of welding the world inside his head to the one that surrounded him, words the fiery chain that bound it all together.

Not if you're inside here and are very quiet. I'll bring you something to eat." He nodded again. She stroked his head, smiled, and wheeled her bike back outside, and then rode back to the château. She had left her coat with

You have to ignore risks, put your brain on hold and follow your instincts, even when your head insists you do otherwise. Sometimes you got burned. I've signed many times. Roasted once or twice. You have to live with the fire. Because if you start thinking too much or playing safe, you're lost to its wondrous charms forever. You become part of the real world again, the mundane, the ordinary, from where there's no escape. (The Cardinal to Capac Raimi)

WILLIAMS: The phrase, of course, is a variation of a line from the song MacArthur Park. Any idea why the terrorists picked that particular song, Elizabeth? BURGER: Brian, one theory is that it was chosen specifically to demoralize the United States, because it gets stuck in your head and everybody hates it.

IF YOU COME NEAR THIS BOAT, I WILL CUT OFF HIS HEAD, D'YOU UNDERSTAND, SAVAGES?

Every part of my body felt electric. My chest ached and my head throbbed with the great terrible limitless possibility of the morning, and when it came, the sky was washed white, everything was new, and I hadn't slept at all.

En de hele tijd streelde ik alle muren van mijn hoofd, met tranen in mijn ogen van vreugde, melancholie zelfs. Ik was verzot op de oppervlakten, de vele kamers - de oude en de lege kamers.

bent down in front of the vent and turned my head, coughing from the dark smoke. A small, red orange fire began to take form. In a flash I grabbed the can of lighter fluid

Decker shook his head and stood. "It goes beyond mere eccentricity. She also has a run-down farmhouse and a crappy car that she drives to work and on her rounds as the proverbial Good Samaritan." "What does that tell you?" "If you were a spy and had

inside his head. It was said that savants

Til there was Rock You only had God. - Sweet Head

You are the spiritual entity that emerges out of the material networks in your head.

Anyway, Arianna and I left the castle very late one evening. I knew the knight on guard at the drawbridge so I hit hit him over the head because I didn't want to hurt him. Garion blinked. I knew he'd be honor-bound to try to stop us, Lelldorin explained. I didn't want to have to kill him, so I hit him over the head. I suppose that makes sense, Garion said dubiously. Arianna's almost positive he won't die. DIE? I hit him just a little too hard, I think.

He is a true casualty of battle. There's not a physical scar, but look at the man's heart, and his head, and there are scars galore.

It is not the least bit coincidental that adults who commit suicide with firearms nearly always shoot themselves in...the head. And the truth is that most of these suicides are actually dead long before they pull the trigger.

Think of the old cliché about "the mind being an excellent servant but a terrible master." This, like many clichés, so lame and unexciting on the surface, actually expresses a great and terrible truth. It is not the least bit coincidental that adults who commit suicide with firearms almost always shoot themselves in the head. And the truth is that most of these suicides are actually dead long before they pull the trigger.

The sound of wind had become, for me, silence. When it went away, I was left with the squeak of the blood in my head and the aural glitter of all those little eardrums hairs quivering like a drunk in withdrawal.

O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes Of mortals fall back to gaze on him.

the mood for sharing." Red turned his head