A Quote by Mark Oliphant

I worked with him for ten years until he died and it was the most wonderful time of my life. — © Mark Oliphant
I worked with him for ten years until he died and it was the most wonderful time of my life.
I worked with him for years. I still think Kanye [West] is one of the most important people in music in the last ten years.
Ten years dropped from a man's life are no small loss; ten years of manhood, of household happiness and care; ten years of honest labor, of conscious enjoyment of sunshine and outdoor beauty; ten years of grateful life--one day looking forward to all this; the next, waking to find them passed, and a blank.
To become a chess grandmaster also seems to take about ten years. (Only the legendary Bobby Fisher got to that elite level in less than that amount of time: it took him nine years.) And what's ten years? Well, it's roughly how long it takes to put in ten thousand hours of hard practice. Ten thousand hours is the magic number of greatness.
What can I expect here? You know the fairy tale about the man who died, don’t you? He was waiting in Eternity to find out what the Lord had decided to do with him. He waited and waited, for one year, ten years, a hundred years. He begged and pleaded for a decision. Finally he couldn’t bear the waiting any longer. Then they said to him: ‘What do you think you’re waiting for? You’ve been in Hell for a long time already.
We'll be eight degrees hotter in ten -- not ten, but thirty or forty years, and basically none of the crops will grow. Most of the people will have died and the rest of us will be cannibals.
We have at most ten years—not ten years to decide upon action, but ten years to alter fundamentally the trajectory of global greenhouse emissions.
Horace, when he wrote the Ars Poetica, recommended that poets keep their poems home for ten years; don't let them go, don't publish them until you have kept them around for ten years: by that time, they ought to stop moving on you; by that time, you ought to have them right.
Unfortunately, once I did learn to smoke, I couldn't stop. I escalated to two packs a day very quickly, and stayed that way for about ten years. When I decided to stop, I adopted the method that my father had used when he quit. He would carry a cigarette in his shirt pocket, and every time he felt like smoking, he would pull out the cigarette and confront it: "Who stronger? You? Me?" Always the answer was the same: "I stronger." Back the cigarette would go, until the next craving. It worked for him, and it worked for me.
Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellow'd long: Even wonder'd at, because he dropp'd no sooner. Fate seem'd to wind him up for fourscore years; Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more; Till like a clock worn out with eating time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still.
Soon I worked during twelve years in theater works of the prestigious Theatre National Populaire. It was the best time of my life, the most difficult, the most interesting, the most exciting.
Without qualification, I am grateful to and have the highest regard and respect for all of the wonderful people on 'Two and Half Men' with whom I have worked and over the past ten years who have become an extension of my family.
I am persuaded that not a novel in ten thousand is of any use to a child to fit him for life. The most are of use only to unfit him -- to blunt his senses and infect him with the writers' poor silly sentiments. Nine out of ten novelists deserve to be prosecuted under an Adulterated Emotions Act.
We spent most of our life almost like street rats just running around the street until we were ten years old.
They loved, and quarreled, and made up, and loved, and fought, and were true to each other and untrue. She made him the happiest man in the whole world and the most wretched, and after a few years she died, and then, when he was thirty, he died, too. But by that time Catullus had invented the love poem.
My relationship with my father was absolutely wonderful. He was the love of my life and pivotal in my life. He was a good, kind man with very strong Buddhist and spiritual beliefs. He could do no wrong and he was my best friend until he died in 2009.
My father ran a corner drug store where he worked night and day, seven days a week, until he died of a stroke. He literally worked himself to death.
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