A Quote by Adelbert von Chamisso

After a prosperous, but to me very wearisome, voyage, we came at last into port. Immediately on landing I got together my few effects; and, squeezing myself through the crowd, went into the nearest and humblest inn which first met my gaze.
The nearer I approach death the more I feel like one who is in sight of land at last and is about to anchor in one's home port after a long voyage.
In Atlanta, my mom came and came downstairs and we were talking like behind the crowd. People from the crowd saw me and started running towards me, asking for pictures and stuff. This girl asked for a picture, and after she got it, she passed out.
There was a very small crowd - minuscule compared to the crowd that he gathered later - at a private home in Los Angeles. And we were standing on the back patio, waiting for him. And he came through the house, saw me and immediately put his hand up in the Vulcan gesture. He said, 'They told me you were here.' We had a wonderful, brief conversation and I said, 'It would be logical if you would become president.'
My daughter recommended Chris O'Dowd to me after seeing him in 'Bridesmaids,' so I watched that and his sitcom, 'The IT Crowd.' When I was over in London, we met up, and I knew immediately he was the right person.
You've got to try to figure out which is the bigger benefit and which is the bigger loser. It nearly killed him [Eric Clapton ]; he was in a very, very bad way for a long time, but he came through it. Most people don't come through it because they don't have the money to buy the people to look after them.
I remember, when Paul Collingwood first came into the dressing room, we did everything together. We practised together, trained together, had dinner together; we batted together and did well in games together - we were thick as thieves. When he got established, he just binned me.
The first time I tried to write was when I was 14, after I got an electric guitar. I put a song together, and it wasn't that bad! The writing came natural to me.
You know, it's very easy to have a few beers with people in the music industry and suddenly be friends for life - 'Let's work together!' All of a sudden, you're trying to form a super group with a few people you've met in a club. I'm not into that, myself. Those aren't your mates.
No one but myself knows the anxiety I go through and the trouble I give myself to finish paintings which do not satisfy me and seem to please so very few others.
When I first arrived (in New York), it seemed to me the most terrifying city in the world... all those big buildings. I remember walking on Broadway, looking up at this huge, mountainous place-and being so lonely. But things started to clear up when I met a few people on the street whom I'd met before-all of a sudden there got to be a certain familiarity about the place, and the terror kind of evaporated. There was a lot of playing going on, and the New Yorkers, of course, were a completely different crowd from what I'd known.
I've made a contribution to my time and my generation through being myself, not through what I shared with the Rolling Stones. It's very bad for me and very dangerous to see myself as someone who had an influence on this song or that song. It immediately puts me in the position where my worth is dependent on how much of my soul I shared with Mick Jagger, and it's just not valid. You can use the gossip you've heard. You're not getting it from me.
A single bomb of this type, carried by boat and exploded in a port, might very well destroy the whole port, together with some of the surrounding territory.
Think of the sound you make when you let go after holding your breath for a very, very long time. Think of the gladdest sound you know: the sound of dawn on the first day of spring break, the sound of a bottle of Coke opening, the sound of a crowd cheering in your ears because you're coming down to the last part of a race--and you're ahead. Think of the sound of water over stones in a cold stream, and the sound of wind through green trees on a late May afternoon in Central Park. Think of the sound of a bus coming into the station carrying someone you love. Then put all those together.
One day I got to meet him because he was teaching Broadway dance. It was a little after Tap came out and he was very young. He wouldn't remember me, but it was quite amazing. And now I've met him as an adult!
I'm doing good. I've had a slight nervous breakdown in the '60s. I got through that. And I got through the '70s. And I was in a doctor's program during the '80s and then I met Melinda and we've been together ever since. I've got a happy life.
An angel stood and met my gaze, Through the low doorway of my tent; The tent is struck, the vision stays; I only know she came and went.
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