A Quote by Jonny Bairstow

The place closest to my dad's heart, unequivocally his favourite, was Scarborough. To him it was the epitome of the English coast, postcard perfect. — © Jonny Bairstow
The place closest to my dad's heart, unequivocally his favourite, was Scarborough. To him it was the epitome of the English coast, postcard perfect.
My dad is my dad. I love him, and I realize that he's as famous as he is. Of course, I don't look at him like everybody else does. Because I know his little faults, I know his weaknesses. Nobody's perfect. But he's my dad. Just like your dad is to you.
You know what's crazy about Yao? He speaks perfect English. A lot of people don't know that. Perfect English. When I was over there, I called him. He's like, 'Whassup big fella?' Perfect English!
Eleanor hadn't written him a letter. It was a postcard. GREETINGS FROM THE LAND OF 10,000 LAKES it said on the front. Park turned it over and recognized her scratchy handwriting. It filled his head with song lyrics. He sat up. He smiled. Something heavy and winged took off from his chest. Eleanor hadn't written him a letter, it was a postcard. Just three words long.
Many celebrations are set to take place in Swarnim Gujarat. However, if one asks me, "As the Chief Minister, which is your favourite programme?" Then friends, I would like to say that 'Vanche Gujarat' is the closest to my heart.
My favourite song of Elton's is... it's a tricky one for me. I'm a proper fan and I've probably seen him in concert about a dozen times before I even met him. Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters, which isn't in this film... but whenever I see him, I always tell him that Passengers is my favourite song because it's one of his least auspicious ones.
Every wife who slaves to keep herself pretty, to cook her husband's favourite meals, to build up his pride and confidence in himself at the expense of his sense of reality, to be his closest and effectively his only friend, to encourage him to rejectthe consensus of opinionand find reassurance only in her arms is binding her mate to her with hoops of steel that will strangle them both.
When I realized I was having a baby boy, I wanted him to know that I'm there in his life: 'Dad loves him. Dad's always going to support him and be there for him.' I don't want him to have to worry about anything.
The grief of losing my father has come in waves over the years, as it does with most people. His love and devotion as a father provided my closest, most intimate relationship. Dad, and our time together, is in my bones. While reflecting on him, the memories themselves seem to boil down into certain 'essences of Dad.'
I was closest to my dad and he always knew that I am responsible and would look after my family. For him, I was always the boy child and not his girl.
One of man's basic concerns is a house - a place to find protection from the rain and elements. But a house can be much more than a building. It is the social context of his family life -\-\ the place where he loves and shares with this closest to him.
I love the traditional music of all our islands - Scotland, England, Ireland and Wales , but I suppose I'm viewed pretty much as an English songwriter and I'm going to try and do an English album, and I wouldn't be ashamed or embarrassed to do Scarborough Fair and Spencer the Rover and stuff like that.
I'd seen my dad on stage, and that was fine, but the real excitement was - that was my dad. Even now, when I see his films, he's always my favourite person in the movie.
I've learnt a lot about Dad from going around the world and listening to other people. Whether I've been in Australia, the Caribbean, Leeds, Scarborough or London there's always someone who's got a story about him.
I want to say unequivocally that while I cherish every person who comes from anywhere, who comes here legally and seeks to pursue happiness, and I hope all of them decide to stay and become American citizens, but I want them to become American. And part of becoming American involved English. It is vital historically to assert and establish that English is the common language at the heart of our civilization.
Dad was synonymous with his charm and wit and grace, and it was sort of the perfect way to go for him.
At such times, the heart of man turns instictively towards his Maker. In prosperity, and whenever there is nothing to injure or make him afraid, he remembers Him not, and is ready to defy Him; but place him in the midst of dangers, cut him off from human aid, let the grave open before him, then it is, in the time of his tribulation, that the scoffer and unbelieving man turns to God for help, feeling there is no other hope, or refuge, or safety, save in his protecting arm.
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