A Quote by Michael J. Fox

Tracy is more a help to me than I am to her. — © Michael J. Fox
Tracy is more a help to me than I am to her.

Quote Topics

I have a memory of listening to Tracy Chapman and just being intrigued by her voice. Even as a young girl, I wanted to know more about her and her story. I felt I was learning about her through her music. That was a revelation to me.
I've always been skeptical of people who say they lose themselves in a part. Someone once came up to Spencer Tracy and asked, "Aren't you tired of always playing Tracy?" Tracy replied, "What am I supposed to do, play Bogart?" You have to develop a style that suits you and pursue it, not just develop a bag of tricks.
[Katharine Hepburn] was much stronger, much more opinionated than I am or ever was, and it was considered attractive on her. But not on me. I don't know. Maybe her Bryn Mawr accent was more appealing than mine.
Heck, I drank no more than John Wayne or Ward Bond or Spencer Tracy or Alan Ladd or Robert Walker. But it got me into a lot more trouble.
I know the books that I need to help me to be wiser than my years and be kinder and more compassionate and more patient than I really am.
The way I became 'Lil Tracy' was Nedarb was throwing away his old clothes, then there was this old Tracy McGrady jersey. I put it on and I was like 'I'm Lil Tracy!'
Jamie was more than just the woman I loved. In the year Jamie helped me become the man I am today. With her steady hand she showed how important it was to help others; with her patience and kindness she showed me what life really is all about. Her cheerfulness and optimism, even in times of sickness, was the most amazing thing I have ever witnessed . . . Jamie also thought me the value of forgiveness and the transforming power it offers . . . Jamie was not only the angel who saved Tom Thornton, she was the angel who saved us all.
“I'm not going anywhere.” Gently, he stroked her back, cradled her head. Was there anything more astounding or more frightening to a man, he wondered, than a strong woman in tears? “I've been right here all along. I love you, Eve, almost more than I can stand.” “I need you. I can't help it. I don't want to.” “I know. He eased back, tucking a hand under her chin to lift her face to his. “We’re going to have to deal with it.” He kissed one wet cheek, then the other. “I really can’t do without you.“
I'd lay down my life for her - Mas'r Davy - Oh! most content and cheerful! She's more to me - gent'lmen - than - she's all to me that ever I can want, and more than ever I - than ever I could say. I - I love her true. There ain't a gent'lman in all the land - nor yet sailing upon all the sea - that can love his lady more than I love her.
There's certain people who have contacted me on Twitter, not realizing I am a human being who reads things sent to me directly. They've said, 'I can't stand her. I never watch more than a minute of her before switching off.' It's a bit like 'give me a chance!'
This is our siblings of more famous BookWorld Personalities self-help group expalined Loser (Gatsby). That's Sharon Eyre, the younger and wholly disreputable sister of Jane; Roger Yossarian, the draft dodger and coward; Rupert Bond, still a virgin and can't keep a secret; Tracy Capulet, who has slept her way round Verona twice; and Nancy Potter, who is a Muggle.
She was my dream. She made me who I am, and holding her in my arms was more natural to me than my own heartbeat. I think about her all the time. Even now, when I'm sitting here, I think about her. There could never have been another.
I am truly miserable - more so than I like to acknowledge to myself. Pride refuses to aid me. It has brought me into the scrape, and will not help me out of it.
Certainly, I am writing as a 21st-century woman, so I am much more inclined to view her as a three-dimensional woman. I think we keep coming up with this stubborn problem of a woman being judged by her appearance rather than her accomplishments. We are much more inclined to ask: was Cleopatra beautiful?
Tracy, the leader of the CDH group, looks at me with eyes that seem to belong to someone three times her age. It's something beyond wisdom, all the way to insanity and back. It's like her eyes are scarred from all the things she's seen.
I saw the way she was looking at you, and I knew that she still loved you. More than that, I know she always will. It breaks my heart, but you know what? I'm still in love with her, and to me that means that I want nothing more than for her to be happy in life. I want that more than anything. It's all I've ever wanted for her.
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