A Quote by Marcel Marceau

There is only one Marceau. — © Marcel Marceau
There is only one Marceau.

Quote Topics

A fantasy of mine is to do a podcast that's Marcel Marceau and I, and you only hear me laughing at him and trying to figure out what he's doing.
Joan Rivers, who said to Marcel Marceau, Can we talk? Never got a dinner!
I did movies because I was flattered and for money and because I wanted to kiss Sophie Marceau.
It's very flattering to be remembered as a Bond girl with brains and not just for looking good in a bikini. I was a fan of Sophie Marceau in 'The World Is Not Enough.' I think her performance was very underrated.
For many years, I did pantomime with Marcel Marceau. I was a writer for him and got to know very well how to use the body for illustration. I wanted to do a mother without arms, but using the arms of her son in Santa Sangre. The tragedy should always have something funny. Something weird.
This is my creed: Happiness is the only good; reason the only torch; justice the only worship, humanity the only religion, and love the only priest.
The complacent, the self-indulgent, the soft societies are about to be swept away with the debris of history. Only the strong, only the industrious, only the determined, only the courageous, only the visionary who determine the real nature of our struggle can possibly survive.
Eat only when you are hungry. Drink only when you're thirsty. Sleep only when you're tired. Screw only when you're horny.
I have a production company because this is the only job I know and this is the only career I have and the only industry I've ever worked in and the only contacts I have. It's like why wouldn't I produce?
Though my heart may be left of centre, I have always known that the only economic system that works is a market economy... This is the only natural economy, the only kind that makes sense, the only one that can lead to prosperity, because it is the only one that reflects the nature of life itself.
If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs, "The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies." While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, Crying to the moo-oo-oon, "If only, If only.
But what was there to say? Only that there were tears. Only that Quietness and Emptiness fitted together like stacked spoons. Only that there was a snuffling in the hollows at the base of a lovely throat. Only that a hard honey-colored shoulder had a semicircle of teethmarks on it. Only that they held each other close, long after it was over. Only that what they shared that night was not happiness, but hideous grief. Only that once again they broke the Love Laws. That lay down who should be loved. And how. And how much.
Never dreaming, was I, poor Jack Duluoz, that the soul is dead. That from Heaven grace descends . . . No Doctor Pisspot Poorpail to tell me; no example inside my first and only skin. That love is the heritage, and cousin to death. That the only love can only be the first love, the only death the last, the only life within, and the only word . . . choked forever.
God does not work by only one method, paint in only one color, play in only one key, nor does he make only one star shine onto the earth.
Poetry is the only life got, the only work done, the only pure product and free labor of man, performed only when he has put all the world under his feet, and conquered the last of his foes.
Our model of the cosmos must be as inexhaustible as the cosmos. A complexity that includes not only duration but creation, not only being but becoming, not only geometry but ethics. It is not the answer we are after, but only how to ask the question.
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