A Quote by Robert Goulet

If people like what I do, fine. If they don't, fine. — © Robert Goulet
If people like what I do, fine. If they don't, fine.
It is the eye of other people that ruin us. If I were blind I would want, neither fine clothes, fine houses or fine furniture.
I think that the status that you have in life should be reflected in official documents. If you are married, fine, if you are living with someone, fine, if you are single, fine. We don't want to tell people how to live their lives.
Do not conceive that fine clothes make fine men any more than fine feathers make fine birds.
If someone doesn't like a comedian that's fine; a lot of people probably don't like my standup, and that's fine. But I think that the problem is people want you to get in trouble. That's the issue.
But the eyes of other people are the eyes that ruin us. If all but myself were blind, I should want neither fine clothes, fine houses nor fine furniture.
People always think I'm not scared. I've noticed that whenever I feel stressed, everyone thinks I'm fine, and later, it's like, 'I was not fine.'
It is painful to be told that anything is very fine and not be able to feel that it is fine--something like being blind, while people talk of the sky.
I feel fine in St Petersburg, my family is fine and my son is fine.
Do not conceive that fine Clothes make fine Men, any more than fine feathers make fine Birds. A plain genteel dress is more admired and obtains more credit than lace and embroidery in the Eyes of the judicious and sensible.
It is the fine souls who serve us, and not what is called fine society. Fine society is only a self-protection against the vulgarities of the street and the tavern.
The [Moon] surface is fine and powdery. I can kick it up loosely with my toe. It does adhere in fine layers like powdered charcoal to the sole and sides of my boots. I only go in a small fraction of an inch, maybe an eighth of an inch, but I can see the footprints of my boots and the treads in the fine sandy particles.
I am a connoisseur of fine irony. 'Tis a bit like fine wine, but it has a better bite.
Fine worries, like fine wines, are at their best only after they have been properly mellowed.
Fine doesn't mean fine! The scale goes: great, good, okay, not okay, I hate you, fine.
Singing a song like 'Your Love Is Killing Me,' people are worried about me. My mother called me, like, 'What's going on with you? Are you alright? I thought you were doing fine.' And I'm like, 'I am doing fine. It's just, this is what I do.'
Fine natures are like fine poems; a glance at the first two lines suffices for a guess into the beauty that waits you if you read on.
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