A Quote by Chloe Esposito

Ever since I knew Dad did pentathlon, I wanted to do it as well. I have seen all his old photos, and he still has his Olympic riding jacket, and that makes this even more special.
I wasn't even born when dad swam in the Olympics. I've seen videos of some of his swims, although I don't think I've ever seen him in the Olympics. He's been a massive support right through my career, and it's good to have someone so close to talk to who knows all about what it's like to compete in an Olympic Games.
I really wanted to work with Luc Besson. I'm a big fan of his. Did you ever see 'The Professional.' It was very violent. But a fabulous story, a fabulous movie, very well done. So that and two or three other projects of his that I've seen, I just thought if I had a shot to work with him I wanted to do it.
Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow, Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow. None has ever caught him yet, for Tom, he is the Master: His songs are stronger songs, and his feet are faster.
I knew since third grade I wanted to be Jim Carrey. His freedom, his goofiness, his crazy, loud, sudden energy. I told my family I was going to be a pediatrician, but in the back of my mind, I was like, 'Nope, I'm going to be the biggest movie star ever.'
When I was very little, my dad had his own go kart team as well while he was still in F1, so I always joined and riding through the paddock on my bicycle.
Usually, no one quite knew where Django Reinhardt was going to be, but I met his brother and about an hour later in walks Django with an entourage of friends. He always traveled with a large group-carried his own admirers with him, the most sinister-looking bunch of hoodlums you've ever seen. I walked up and offered to buy him a drink. That seemed to be the right thing to do... he was the first really brilliant solo guitarist I ever became aware of, I had records of his when I was 10 years old. It just blew my mind that anyone could play a guitar like that. Still does.
He (Jackie Robinson) was the greatest competitor I've ever seen. I've seen him beat a team with his bat, his ball, his glove, his feet and, in a game in Chicago one time, with his mouth.
Ziggy Marley is the third generation of Marleys I know. I knew his grandmother and his dad - I did a children's album with his grandmother. They're like family.
One Dad I know uses what I call Post-It® Note therapy on his children. He leaves sticky Post-It Notes everywhere ...in their lunch box, inside their shoes, on top of their sandwich before he wraps it up. He once went into his daughter's room, looking for his hammer, and on the back of her bedroom door were every Post-It Note he'd ever given her - over 250 in all with simple messages like 'Great job'...'I love you'...or 'You're special to me.' Do you think that girl knew, without a doubt, that her Dad valued her and loved her?
He wanted to wake up every morning to her. Go to sleep with his body wrapped tightly around hers. He wanted her to have his child—his children. He knew he wanted to live out the rest of his life with her by his side and when he died, he wanted to die in her arms.
Ranger clicked his penlight on. "Hang onto me if you can't see." I curled my hand into the back of his cargo pants just above his gun belt. "I'm good to go." He was still for a beat. "You could have held on to my jacket," he said. "Would you rather I do that?" "No. Not even a little.
A light was on in the kitchen. His mother sat at the kitchen table, as still as a statue. Her hands were clasped together, and she stared fixatedly at a small stain on the tablecloth. Gregor remembered seeing her that way so many nights after his dad had disappeared. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to scare her or shock her or ever give her any more pain. So, he stepped into the light of the kitchen and said the one thing he knew she wanted to hear most in the world. "Hey, Mom. We're home.
It was at first almost as if he hadn't wanted to kiss her. His mouth was hard on hers, unyielding; then he put both arms around her and pulled her against him. His lips softened. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of apples still on his mouth. She wound her hands into his hair, as she'd wanted to do since the first time she'd seen him. His hair curled around her fingers, silky and fine. Her heart was hammering, and there was a rushing sound in her ears, like beating wings
She would try picturing him in his underwear, but that was even more disturbing since all it did was make her hot and even more nervous… He had to be the only man alive who could pull off intimidating in his tighty-whities. God, what if all that massive hotness was commando?
You know what, the jacket’s like the car.” "“Is this a riddle?” " , "“No,” Peabody said as Eve swiped the master.","“It’s an", "ordinary thing—well, special, but a jacket, right? And the car, it’s ordinary, it even looks it. But both of them have the special inside. Cop special especially, you know? He so gets you. That’s even better than a just-because present.”", "“You’re right. He does. And it is.” Inside, Eve paused another moment. “He’s worried about me.”", [J.D. Robb, Celebrity In Death]
There was no God in his heart, he knew; his ideas were still in riot; there was ever the pain of memory; the regret for his lost youth-yet the waters of disillusion had left a deposit on his soul, responsibility and a love of life, the faint stirring of old ambitions and unrealized dreams...... And he could not tell why the struggle was worth while, why he had determined to use to the utmost himself and his heritage from the personalities he had passed... He stretched out his arms to the crystalline, radiant sky. I know myself," he cried, "but that is all.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!