A Quote by Lee Tae-min

I like 'I Can't Stand the Rain.' I like it because it has a really oriental feeling to it, an 'oriental taste,' it has an essence of Asia. — © Lee Tae-min
I like 'I Can't Stand the Rain.' I like it because it has a really oriental feeling to it, an 'oriental taste,' it has an essence of Asia.
Bolshevism may be Marxian in theory, but it is Hulagoesque in practice. It may be of European descent, but it is Oriental in tradition. Oriental in mood. Oriental in temperament.
Those Oriental people work like dogs. That’s why they’re successful in life. I went to Seoul, South Korea, I went to Taipei, Taiwan. I went to Tokyo, Japan. That’s why these people are so hard workers. I’m telling you, the Oriental people, they’re slowly taking over.
In London, I really like going to the Mandarin Oriental. They can even do my feet without tickling me.
China has no desire to replace Western imperialism in Asia with an Oriental imperialism or isolationism of its own or anyone else.
Those Oriental people work like dogs.
Marvelous oriental pace he's got, just like a Buddhist statue.
Since the Greeks, Western man has believed that Being, all Being, is intelligible, that there is a reason for everythingand that the cosmos is, finally, intelligible. The Oriental, on the other hand, has accepted his existence within a universe that would appear to be meaningless, to the rational Western mind, and has lived with this meaninglessness. Hence the artistic form that seems natural to the Oriental is one that is just as formless or formal, as irrational, as life itself.
There’s an Oriental saying I like: “If aggression meets empty space it tends to defeat itself.
My flat is a bit like an oriental bazaar. It's filled with the oddest objects from all my travels, and you can't really move in it. I love collecting antiques and often spend weekends driving around bric-a-brac markets.
On the mainland, a rain was falling. The famous Seattle rain. The thin, gray rain that toadstools love. The persistent rain that knows every hidden entrance into collar and shopping bag. The quiet rain that can rust a tin roof without the tin roof making a sound in protest. The shamanic rain that feeds the imagination. The rain that seems actually a secret language, whispering, like the ecstasy of primitives, of the essence of things.
In Botswana in the Kalahari Desert there's a tented camp called Jack's Camp, which is like old Africa meets Ralph Lauren. The Oriental rugs, the old leather chairs - you feel like you've just jumped out of a Ralph Lauren ad.
The only thing Oriental about me is my face.
I mean, in general, the danger is from Oriental faiths and Islam.
I love Puccini and that oriental influence in his music.
My American walking shoes are new, and my Oriental eyes are old.
It's the same mysterious exotic oriental fragrance as what the Beatles get off on.
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