A Quote by Renata Tebaldi

I gave my last concert in 1976. For 32 years, I had given everything I had. I wanted to stop. My last big debut was in Russia in 1973. After I retired, I didn't have to worry about going out in bad weather. I could stay up late.
I had been fighting since 1998 and knowing that this was going to be my last fight – I was not going to leave any questions or anything out there as far as, ‘Could I have done anything different?’ I was going to give this everything I had. My last memories of being a fighter were going to be good ones.
After all that I'd been through, after all that I'd learned and all that I'd been given, I was going to do what I had been doing every day for the last few years now: just show up and do teh best that I could do with whatever lay in front of me.
The storm was really giving it everything it had. This was its big chance. It had spent years hanging around the provinces, putting in some useful work as a squall, building up experience, making contacts, occasionally leaping out on unsuspecting shepherds or blasting quite small oak trees. Now an opening in the weather had given it an opportunity to strut its hour, and it was building up its role in the hope of being spotted by one of the big climates.
We were so happy to be alive. There was a motel there pretty close. We had a big cup of coffee. Everybody had a room to themselves. But nobody wanted to go to bed. Everybody wanted to stay up and drink coffee and have doughnuts. We had made it. The weather was perfect when we woke up the next morning.
Pretty much everywhere we went we had crazy weather. I think Russia was probably one of the toughest places for us weatherwise, but even Alaska, the last three years have been somewhat subpar when you look at historically how Alaska can shape up.
From their '61 Cavern Club debut to their last rooftop concert eight years later, The Beatles gave every serious artist in their wake the songbook and sound for their career. It's the musical trough from which nearly every musician drinks.
Yet you could feel a vibration in the air, a sense of hastening. It had started with the moon, inaccessible poem that it was. Now men had walked upon it, rubber treads on a pearl of the gods. Perhaps it was an awareness of time passing, the last summer of the decade. Sometimes I just wanted to raise my hands and stop. But stop what? Maybe just growing up.
I wish I were whole. I wish I could have given you youngs, if you'd wanted them and I could conceive them. I wish I could have told you it killed me when you thought I had been with anyone else. I wish I had spent the last year waking up every night and telling you I loved you. I wish I had mated you properly the evening you came back to me from the dead.
She had died peacefully, in her sleep, after an evening of listening to all of her favorite Fred Astaire songs, one crackling record after another. Once the last chord of the last piece had died out, she had stood up and opened the French doors to the garden outside, perhaps waiting to breathe in the honeysuckle one more time.
With Hairspray, we had a great experience. I always think of the last time I saw Divine: He was in the last booth in the back of the Odeon. Now every time I go in there, I look at that table. It was a wonderful night.Hairspray had been out a week; it was a hit. If I had to pick a night that was going to be the last night.
My body had given up on me at one point. And as many injuries as I've had over the years, I truly believed that my body needed to rest and not be on the grind like it's been for the last 15 years.
This was our last stop. This was it. We had those two embryos that we had banked prior to learning about the breast cancer, and with the medicine she was on, this was our last effort. The prayers were answered.
Everything he'd done with regard to her in the last three years had been calculated to foreclose the intensely personal sort of talks they'd had when he was younger: to get her to shut up, to train her to contain herself, to make her stop pestering him with her overfull heart and her uncensored self. And now that the training was complete and she was obediently trivial with him, he felt bereft of her and wanted to undo it.
Mendanbar took a deep breath. You could stay here. At the castle, I mean. With me. This wasn't coming out at all the way he had wanted it to, but it was too late to stop now. He hurried on, As Queen of the Enchanted Forest, if you think you would like that. I would.
But what I wanted back had never really been there. He was a temporary illusion, a mirage of water after walking in the desert. I had made him up. And he could have killed me. You've got to stop the ride sometimes. Stop it and get off.
Just tell me, Percy, do you still have the birthday gift I gave you last summer?" I nodded and pulled out my camp necklace. It had a bead for every summer I'd been at Camp Half-Blood, but since last year I'd also kept a sand dollar on the cord. My father had given it to me for my fifteenth birthday. He'd told me I would know when to "spend it," but so far I hadn't figured out what he meant. All I knew that it didn't fit the vending machines in the school cafeteria.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!