Quotes About Small

movement in the small room left him directly between Wellesley and Anna. "She is a baby—and we know

A poet is a musician that can't sing. Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets. Music touches their hearts directly no matter how small or stubborn the mind of the man who listens.

A poet is a musician who can't sing. Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets. Music touches their hearts directly no matter how small or stubborn the mind of the man who listens.

Remember this, son, if you forget everything else. A poet is a musician who can't sing. Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets. Music touches their hearts directly no matter how small or stubborn the mind of the man who listens.

The crickets, too, respect the silence. Their calls are like careful stitches in its fabric, almost too small to be seen.

A poet is a musician who can't sing. Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets.

Remember this son, if you forget everything else. A poet is a musician who can't sing. Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets. Music touches their hearts directly no matter no matter how small or stubborn the mind of the man who listens.

It is a small hope, and pointless really. They are just as dead either way. Still, I hope.

Un poeta es un músico que no sabe cantar. Las palabras tienen que encontrar la mente de un hombre si pretenden llegar a su corazón, y la mente de algunos hombres es lamentablemente pequeña. La música llega al corazón por pequeña o acérrima que sea la mente de quien la escucha.

Remember this, son, if you forget everything else. A poet is a musician who can't sing. Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets. Music touches their hearts directly no matter how small or stubborn the mind of the man who listens." My

The Chelsea was like a doll's house in the Twilight Zone, with a hundred rooms, each a small universe.

Those were mystical times. An era of small pleasures.

My small torrent of words dissipated into an elaborate sense of expanding and receding. It was my entrance into the radiance of imagination.

Everything here is a small offense and not of value as art or confession. It is not a whim. It is an attempt to peel another putrid skin.

Amar las palabras, tener interés en lo que se escribe, creer en el poder de los libros, esto supera a todo lo demás, y a su lado la vida de uno se queda muy pequeña.

But I feel truly wowed by the architecture and the meaning of the architecture if you get lost in it and think about the man hours in the smallest little chapel, and the love involved. God it's fantastic.

How fragile we are under the sheltering sky. Behind the sheltering sky is a vast dark universe, and we're just so small.

No one is good; no one is evil; everyone is both, in the same way and in different ways. … It is so small a thing, the life of a man, and yet there is time to do great things, fragments of the common task.

Dans notre société, quelles sont les classes qui aiment le travail pour le travail ? Les paysans propriétaires, les petits bourgeois, qui les uns courbés sur leurs terres, les autres acoquinés dans leurs boutiques, se remuent comme la taupe dans sa galerie souterraine, et jamais ne se redressent pour regarder à loisir la nature.

Slight was the thing I bought, Small was the debt I thought, Poor was the loan at best — God! but the interest!

Yap, yap little dog.

took a deep breath, tasting dust and eucalyptus, and moved past the smeary lights of the veranda. In the small park across the road, smooth clay had been spread like a dusting of confectioners' sugar,

small gully where the red mud had dried and cracked in a system of parched veins.

What is life? a tale that is told; What is life? a frenzy extreme, A shadow of things that seem; And the greatest good is but small, That all life is a dream to all, And that dreams themselves are a dream. -Segismundo