A Quote by David Linley

The workshop to me always means great atmosphere, working, smell of wood, dust and, at the end of the day, you've created something. — © David Linley
The workshop to me always means great atmosphere, working, smell of wood, dust and, at the end of the day, you've created something.
A relationship isn't something that has to be created in a day or perfected in a day. Part of the game is to keep working on it. It's something that'll always be just a little flawed.
There's a trend for people wanting more meaning in their work and pursuing something in the day-to-day that is valuable rather than working as a means to the end.
I am always going to be working on location, even if I have a 20-year career. Talk to me in 15 years and I will still be working on location. It's something I can always do better. Right now, it's not nearly where it could be, so it gives me something to work on every day.
My two great fears are either not working or working on something that means you can't do something else you really want.
No company can say our country is great because of our diversity. They can say it but has nothing to do with it, literally nothing to do with it, how diverse you are. "Well, it just means that we don't discriminate. It means that we value all people." Fine and dandy. But unless your company makes something or has a service and you have an atmosphere where people working for you can become the best they can be, it doesn't matter what your workforce looks like, dummkopf.
Show business has never been my everything. It's a means; it's not the end. It's a means to the end. I want and have always wanted freedom. That was always my goal, to not have a boss, to not have anybody tell me what to do. Luckily, as an actor, I got that.
I wanted to keep the same general attitude we created for the show in that there are some similarities to 'The X-Files,' so some of the realistic atmosphere that we created on 'The X-Files' is the same that we've created for 'Millennium.' It's an atmosphere that helps the audience invest themselves in the characters and believe what they're doing.
My dad taught me how to get into clubs and what to look for in clubs, and he always stressed to me that a 3-wood, 4-wood or 5-wood was the toughest club to dial in and if you find a good one to keep it.
You think the end justifies the means, however vile. I tell you: the end is the means by which you achieve it. Today's step is tomorrow's life. Great ends cannot be attained by base means. You've proved that in all your social upheavals. The meanness and inhumanity of the means make you mean and inhuman and make the end unattainable.
We think the fire eats the wood. We are wrong. The wood reaches out to the flame. The fire licks at what the wood harbors, and the wood gives itself away to that intimacy, the manner in which we and the world meet each new day.
We are so anxious to achieve some particular end that we never pay attention to the psycho-physical means whereby that end is to be gained. So far as we are concerned, any old means is good enough. But the nature of the universe is such that ends can never justify the means. On the contrary, the means always determine the end.
If they're working in a workshop somewhere, where there is, let's say, uh... only twenty people, or something like that, that's still, when they work and do a scene, that's still working in front of somebody.
October, here's to you. Here's to the heady aroma of the frost-kissed apples, the winey smell of ripened grapes, the wild-as-the-wind smell of hickory nuts and the nostalgic whiff of that first wood smoke.
There was a wonderful atmosphere of gentle age, a smell of flowers and beeswax, sweet yet faintly sour and musty; a smell that makes you feel very tender towards the past.
I was raised among books, making invisible friends in pages that seemed cast from dust and whose smell I carry on my hands to this day.
When you smell our candles burning, what does it make you think of, my child?" Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles. I smell the stables. I smell Hodor laughing, and Jon and Robb battling in the yard, and Sansa singing about some stupid lady fair. I smell the crypts where the stone kings sit. I smell hot bread baking. I smell the godswood. I smell my wolf. I smell her fur, almost as if she were still beside me. "I don't smell anything," she said.
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