A Quote by Jubal Early

I don't think of myself as a lion. You might as well, though, I have a mighty roar. — © Jubal Early
I don't think of myself as a lion. You might as well, though, I have a mighty roar.
The Bible says that the devil is like a roaring lion (1 Peter 5:8). He comes in the darkness, and tries to frighten the children of God with his mighty roar. But when you switch on the light of the Word of God, you discover that there is no lion. There is only a mouse with a microphone! The devil is an imposter. Got it?
'Who dares this pair of boots displace, Must meet Bombastes face to face.' Thus do I challenge the human race. Bombastes: So have I heard on Afric's burning shore, A hungry lion give a grievous roar; The grievous roar echo'd along the shore. King: So have I heard on Afric's burning shore Another lion give a grievous roar, And the first lion thought the last a bore.
When a lion meets another with a louder roar, the first lion thinks the last a bore.
I was not the lion, but it fell to me to give the lion's roar.
The greatest fear in the world is of the opinions of others. And the moment you are unafraid of the crowd you are no longer a sheep, you become a lion. A great roar arises in your heart, the roar of freedom.
I brought the Beetle to life with a roar. Well. Not really a roar. A Volkswagen Bug doesn't roar. But it sort of growled.
Only a lion can recognize a lion's roar.
Did you think the lion was sleeping because he didn't roar?
The great roe is a mythological beast with the head of a lion and the body of a lion, though not the same lion.
The roar of the traffic, the passage of undifferentiated faces, this way and that way, drugs me into dreams; rubs the features from faces. People might walk through me. And what is this moment of time, this particular day in which I have found myself caught? The growl of traffic might be any uproar - forest trees or the roar of wild beasts. Time has whizzed back an inch or two on its reel; our short progress has been cancelled. I think also that our bodies are in truth naked. We are only lightly covered with buttoned cloth; and beneath these pavements are shells, bones and silence.
An injured lion still wants to roar.
An injured lion wants to know if he can still roar.
Roar, lion of the heart, and tear me open!
I try to think of myself as a lion, bringing down the kill, controlling the jungle. A lion controls his jungle.
A man in the jungle at night, as someone said, may suppose a hyena's growl to be a lion's; but when he hears the lion's growl, he knows damn well it's a lion.
I want my people to laugh like a lion's roar. Then even laughter becomes a tremendous experience, because it is intelligence at its peak.
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