A Quote by Jeanne Calment

I have legs of iron, but to tell you the truth, they're starting to rust and buckle a bit. — © Jeanne Calment
I have legs of iron, but to tell you the truth, they're starting to rust and buckle a bit.
. . . if gold rust, what then will iron do?/ For if a priest be foul in whom we trust/ No wonder that a common man should rust. . . .
Just as rust, which arose from the iron itself, wears out the iron, likewise, performing an action without examination would destroy us by projecting us into a negative state of existence.
Why should Canada, wild and unsettled as it is, impress us as an older country than the States, unless because her institutions are old? All things appeared to contend there, as I have implied, with a certain rust of antiquity, such as forms on old armor and iron guns,--the rust of conventions and formalities. It is said that the metallic roofs of Montreal and Quebec keep sound and bright for forty years in some cases. But if the rust was not on the tinned roofs and spires, it was on the inhabitants and their institutions.
Idleness is to the human mind like rust to iron
Idleness is to the human mind like rust to iron.
When the sun shouts and people abound One thinks there were the ages of stone and the age of bronze And the iron age; iron the unstable metal; Steel made of iron, unstable as his mother; the tow-ered-up cities Will be stains of rust on mounds of plaster. Roots will not pierce the heaps for a time, kind rains will cure them, Then nothing will remain of the iron age And all these people but a thigh-bone or so, a poem Stuck in the world's thought, splinters of glass In the rubbish dumps, a concrete dam far off in the mountain.
As iron is eaten away by rust, so the envious are consumed by their own passion.
George, she says it's the truth that matters. We live and die for the chance to maybe tell a little bit of the truth, maybe shame the Devil just a little bit before we go.
Antisthenes used to say that envious people were devoured by their own disposition, just as iron is by rust.
Sometimes I don't tell the truth, which is telling the truth about not telling the truth. I think people don't tell the truth when they're afraid that something bad's going to happen if they tell the truth. I say things all the time that I could really get into trouble for, but they kind of blow over.
War seems to come out of nowhere, like rust that suddenly pops up on iron after a storm.
Rust rust rust in the engines of love and time.
My favorite movie is 'Iron Man.' I tell people that I think it's just as good as 'Dark Knight,' if not better, and people tell me I'm crazy. I really like 'Iron Man.'
I tend to be reasonably blunt, maybe a little bit too much. But I just- I always respected people that tell the truth. And I've always wanted people to tell me the truth.
The women's movement burst forth when I was fifteen. That was when I began to believe that life might semi-work out after all. The cavalry had arrived. Women were starting to say that you got to tell the truth now, that you had to tell the truth if you were going to heal and have an authentic life.
I might have preferred iron - but bronze will do. It won't rust. This time I hope, the head will stay on.
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