A Quote by Francois Mauriac

If you would tell me the heart of a man, tell me not what he reads, but what he rereads. — © Francois Mauriac
If you would tell me the heart of a man, tell me not what he reads, but what he rereads.
When I ask, “How are you?” that is really what I want to know. I am not asking how many items are on your to-do list, nor asking how many items are in your inbox. I want to know how your heart is doing, at this very moment. Tell me. Tell me your heart is joyous, tell me your heart is aching, tell me your heart is sad, tell me your heart craves a human touch. Examine your own heart, explore your soul, and then tell me something about your heart and your soul.
Tell me I'm clever, Tell me I'm kind, Tell me I'm talented, Tell me I'm cute, Tell me I'm sensitive, Graceful and wise, Tell me I'm perfect - But tell me the truth.
Tell me a fact, and I'll learn. Tell me a truth, and I'll believe. But tell me a story, and it will live in my heart forever.
I do have a very wonderful mentor, who helps me and reads my work and criticizes me, all the time. You've gotta have those people, who will tell you the truth and help you. You don't want anyone buttering you up. I want someone to tell me what I can fix. That's what I like.
Tell me I didn't imagine it, Leo. Tell me that even though our bodies were in seperate states, our star selves shared an enchanted place. Tell me that right around noon today (eastern time) you had the strangest sensation: a tiny chill on your shoulder...a flutter in the heart...a shadow of strawberry-banana crossing your tongue...tell me you whispered my name.
Do not tell me what to do, tell me what you do. Do not tell me what is good for me, tell me what is good for you. If, at the same time, you reveal the you in me, if you become a mirror to my inner self, then you have made a reader and a friend.
O tell me, friends, while yet we part, And heart can yet be heard of heart, O tell me then, for what is it Our early plan of life we quit; From all our old intentions range, And why does all so wholly change? O tell me, friends, while yet we part!
Now don't you ever tell a lie just confide in me Would you die 4 me? Tell me baby would you ride 4 me?
My father would tell me my defects but never praise me to my face. The good things about me he would only tell others when I wasn't around.
My parents are my best friends and I would tell them things that I would tell nobody as they would never judge me and would always support me.
Tell me I'm beautiful, it's nothing. Tell me I'm intellectual - I know it. Tell me I'm funny and it's the greatest compliment in the world anyone could give me.
Tell me I'm beautiful, it's nothing. Tell me I'm intellectual - I know it. Tell me I'm funny, and it's the greatest compliment in the world anyone could give me.
Don't. Tell me when, then. And before you say never, take a good look at me and tell me if you see a man who's easily deterred.
When I was younger, coming up in this industry, I was 17, 18 years old. You couldn't tell me Beyonce wasn't my friend. You couldn't tell me that Janet Jackson wasn't my girl. You couldn't tell me that once I signed to my label that me and J.Lo weren't going to have tea in L.A.
“I thought we were in a church basement, but we are literally in the heart of Jesus.” “Someone should tell Jesus,” I said. “I mean, it's gotta be dangerous, storing children with cancer in your heart.” “I would tell Him myself.” Augustus said, “but unfortunately I am literally stuck inside of His heart, so He won't be able to hear me.”
A slow smile curved over my face, and I leaned down over him. "No," I said. "Wishes are lies. Tell me you're going to leave. Tell me you're not going to stay. Tell me that it's only for a while so I can enjoy today," I whispered in his ear, as if saying it louder would break me. "And when you go, don't think me cold when I don't cry. I can't cry anymore, Pierce. It hurts too much.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!