#almost

I spent, as you know, a year and a half in a clergyman's family and heard almost every Tuesday the very best, most earnest and most impressive preacher it has ever been my fortune to meet with, but it produced no effect whatever on my mind. ↗

— Alfred Russel Wallace

#been #best #clergyman #earnest #effect

You know, I think when you are unemployed, especially for a long time, it's hard to be inspired or hopeful almost about anything. So it's tough, especially when there has been such gridlock here in D.C. You know, when we are fighting and can't get anything done, whether you are liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican, no one wins. ↗

— Peter Welch

#almost #anything #been #conservative #democrat

The hopeless grief of those poor colored people affected me more than almost anything else. ↗

— Gideon Welles

#almost #anything #colored #else #grief

All alone in a committee room of the Senate Office Building in Washington, I was reading the dry typewritten pages in an unpublished report of an almost forgotten congressional committee hearing. ↗

— Robert Welch

#alone #building #committee #congressional #dry

No one talked about the fact that in this year under the Obama administration you've seen the highest casualties in Afghanistan. And the fact that it took him almost 90 days to figure out what his strategy is going to be was absolutely appalling. ↗

— Allen West

#absolutely #administration #afghanistan #almost #appalling

I guess I've never really been aggressive, although almost everybody else in show business fights and gouges and knees to get where they want to be. ↗

— Andy Williams

#almost #although #been #business #else

Almost nothing is presented to you on a silver platter. You have to really work for it. ↗

— Katarina Witt

#nothing #platter #presented #really #silver

Sometimes I forget that I am even watching myself, realizing that's me. It's like you almost become a fan yourself: You are just this normal person watching this show, and then you realize that it's your show. It's weird sometimes. ↗

— Evan Rachel Wood

#am #become #even #fan #forget

It seems that almost every time a valuable natural resource is discovered in the world-whether it be diamonds, rubber, gold, oil, whatever-often what results is a tragedy for the country in which they are found. Making matters worse, the resulting riches from these resources rarely benefit the people of the country from which they come. ↗

— Edward Zwick

#benefit #come #country #diamonds #discovered

I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny they are small, and the fountain is in France where you wrote me that last letter and I answered and never heard from you again. you used to write insane poems about ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper case, and you knew famous artists and most of them were your lovers, and I wrote back, it’ all right, go ahead, enter their lives, I’ not jealous because we’ never met. we got close once in New Orleans, one half block, but never met, never touched. so you went with the famous and wrote about the famous, and, of course, what you found out is that the famous are worried about their fame –– not the beautiful young girl in bed with them, who gives them that, and then awakens in the morning to write upper case poems about ANGELS AND GOD. we know God is dead, they’ told us, but listening to you I wasn’ sure. maybe it was the upper case. you were one of the best female poets and I told the publishers, editors, “ her, print her, she’ mad but she’ magic. there’ no lie in her fire.” I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom, but that didn’ happen. your letters got sadder. your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all lovers betray. it didn’ help. you said you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and the bridge was over a river and you sat on the crying bench every night and wept for the lovers who had hurt and forgotten you. I wrote back but never heard again. a friend wrote me of your suicide 3 or 4 months after it happened. if I had met you I would probably have been unfair to you or you to me. it was best like this. ↗

— Charles Bukowski

#beauty