A Quote by Ray Bolger

How lonely it is going to be now on the Yellow Brick Road. — © Ray Bolger
How lonely it is going to be now on the Yellow Brick Road.
Kanan is a big road through the Santa Monica Mountains. Between mid-March and mid-April, when you get over to the western side of the mountains, it's populated by Spanish broom - this beautiful, yellow, flowering weed that smells the way I imagine it smells along the Yellow Brick Road.
I just go with the flow, I follow the yellow brick road. I don't know where it's going to lead me, but I follow it.
Follow the yellow brick road.
The way to Everest is not a Yellow Brick Road.
Your dreams are ballbusters; they're not the yellow brick road.
The road to the City of Emeralds is paved with yellow brick.
I'd rather drive the yellow brick road, you wouldn't happen to know of a rental car place around.
My first albums as a little kid were Elton John's 'Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,' Simon and Garfunkel's 'Greatest Hits' - and 'Workingman's Dead.' How many other people still listen to the music they liked at age 12?
Too many people think life is a yellow brick road. We learned that hardships make you better and that you have to adapt to your surroundings. And then you understand.
I shan't be lonely now. I was lonely; I was afraid. But the emptiness and the darkness are gone; when I turn back into myself now I'm like a child going at night into a room where there's always a light.
That brick that you're standing on, that foundation that you're standing on, there's a brick in there that was placed by someone you never knew, sort of a faceless possibility, but you're there now. You have an opportunity to put your own brick in there. That's what it feels like we're doing with 'Hamilton'
Fans give me yellow things, and I think now what's really fun is, when anyone sees yellow now, they'll think of me. Now it's kind of like this self-fulfilling prophecy: Yellow things come to me.
What's your road, man? - holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow. Where body how?
All my life I've been lonely. I've been lonely at crowded parties. I've been lonely in the middle of kissing a girl and I've been lonely at camp with hundreds of fellows around. But now I'm not lonely any more.
Fame stole my yellow. Yellow is the color you get when you're real and brutally honest. Yellow is with my kids[...]The bundle of bright yellow warming my core, formerly frozen and uninhabitable[...]They got yellow from me, and I felt yellow giving it to them and it was all good[...]So, why am I leaving my show? It took my yellow. I wanted it back. Without it I can't live. The gray kills me.
Talk about the flag or drugs or crime (never about race or class or justice) and follow the yellow brick road to the wonderful land of consensus. In place of honest argument among consenting adults the politicians substitute a lullaby for frightened children: the pretense that conflict doesn't really exist, that we have achieved the blessed state in which we no longer need politics.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!