A Quote by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa

A house of which one knew every room wasn't worth living in. — © Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa
A house of which one knew every room wasn't worth living in.
My mom and grandmother were actresses, and I knew I was going to do this since I was super young. I would put on shows at my grandparents' house and sing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' in the living room. I was in drama club and chorus, and I knew every word to 'Grease.'
Every corner in a house, every angle in a room, every inch of secluded space in which we like to hide, or withdraw into ourselves, is a symbol of solitude for the imagination; that is to say, it is the germ of a room, or of a house.
All I really want is a three-room house. The home I have designed at my new farm in Bedford, New York, is a three-room house: bedroom on top, living room in the middle, and kitchen on the ground.
The most audacious thing I could possibly state in this day and age is that life is worth living. It's worth being bashed against. It's worth getting scarred by. It's worth pouring yourself over every one of its coals.
A man is like a two-story house. The first floor is equipped with an entrance and a living room. On the second floor is every family member's room. They enjoy listening to music and reading books. On the first underground floor is the ruin of people's memories. The room filled with darkness is the second underground floor.
A vision is something worth living for, and it is something worth dying for. In fact, if it is not worth dying for, it is not worth living for. Brave, godly martyrs throughout history have proven time and again that what we as Christians live for is worth dying for.
My favorite room in the house is the living room. We have two big couches, six recliners and over 20 pillows. It's a really comfortable place to hang out with my family.
The judgment that human life is worth living, or rather can and ought to be made worth living, ... underlies all intellectual effort; it is the a priori of social theory, and its rejection (which is perfectly logical) rejects theory itself.
"Surely so many countries can't all be worth dying for." "Anything worth living for," said Nately, "is worth dying for." "And anything worth dying for," answered the sacrilegious old man, "is certainly worth living for."
I'd think the house was the source of great sadness or pressure. I knew it wasn't. I knew it was just where I lived. But I'd walk up the stairs and the second floor was just desolate. My old bedroom: empty. My old rehearsal room: empty. First floor studio: messy and empty. Middle room: broken gear everywhere.
There is an Indian proverb that says that everyone is a house with four rooms, a physical, a mental, an emtional, and a spiritual . Most of us tend to live in one room most of the time but unless we go into every room every day, even if only to keep it aired, we are not a complete person.
I work in our living room, a strange room in a strange, topsy-turvy house. I work underneath this enormous bookshelf.
I can't speak for others, but I find the fundamental idea that a life worth living is one during which one strives every day to become a better person to be compelling.
Walk some night on a suburban street and pass house after house on both sides of the same street each with the lamplight of the living room, shining golden, and inside the little blue square of the television, each living family riveting its attention on probably one show; nobody talking; silence in the yards; dogs barking at you because you pass on human feet instead of wheels.
He never has made a living. He went from my grandparents' house to the very regimented military school, back to the house, to my grandfather's company, to the Trump Organization, which I view as a sinecure for him. And then 'The Apprentice,' whatever that was, and the White House.
The house is in turmoil with records on every space. In the kitchen and in the dining room is covered with records. I don't have a big enough house to accommodate everything.
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