#lando

Orlando's a part of me. The next guy's a part of me. And the next guy's a part of me. That's all I'm trying to do, is tell cool stories that people can relate to. ↗

— Shemar Moore

#guy #i #ll cool #me #next

When they wrote the Constitution, only white male landowners had the right to vote. ↗

— Jesse Jackson

#had #landowners #male #only #right

I represent Orlando, Florida, the world's number one vacation destination. ↗

— Ric Keller

#florida #i #number #orlando #represent

Orlando's a really cool guy. They hired him for "Lord of the Rings" out of drama school. He's very new at this still and doesn't have a lot of experience. So we were in this together and we've tried to help each other out. We felt very equal which was good. ↗

— Diane Kruger

#cool guy #drama #drama school #each #equal

I have a lot of friends and fans in Orlando, and I'd love to see them again. ↗

— Bobby Sherman

#fans #friends #i #lot #love

While Congress can't overturn the Supreme Court, we can provide carrots and sticks to prevent local governments from unfairly taking property from landowners. ↗

— Stephanie Herseth

#congress #court #governments #landowners #local

Love had meant nothing to him but sawdust and cinders. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#love

JAQUES: Rosalind is your love's name? ORLANDO: Yes, just. JAQUES: I do not like her name. ORLANDO: There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#humor #jaques #names #orlando #rosalind

Hopefully when you see the movie, Maybe you don't have the Orlando in your life, but you know that guy. He goes to church. He's down the street. He's one of the boys at the schoolyard. They exist. ↗

— Shemar Moore

#down #exist #goes #guy #hopefully

To give a truthful account of London society at that or indeed at any other time, is beyond the powers of the biographer or the historian. Only those who have little need of the truth, and no respect for it — the poets and the novelists — can be trusted to do it, for this is one of the cases where the truth does not exist. Nothing exists. The whole thing is a miasma — a mirage. To make our meaning plain — Orlando could come home from one of these routs at three or four in the morning with cheeks like a Christmas tree and eyes like stars. She would untie a lace, pace the room a score of times, untie another lace, stop, and pace the room again. Often the sun would be blazing over Southwark chimneys before she could persuade herself to get into bed, and there she would lie, pitching and tossing, laughing and sighing for an hour or longer before she slept at last. And what was all this stir about? Society. And what had society said or done to throw a reasonable lady into such an excitement? In plain language, nothing. Rack her memory as she would, next day Orlando could never remember a single word to magnify into the name something. Lord O. had been gallant. Lord A. polite. The Marquis of C. charming. Mr M. amusing. But when she tried to recollect in what their gallantry, politeness, charm, or wit had consisted, she was bound to suppose her memory at fault, for she could not name a thing. It was the same always. Nothing remained over the next day, yet the excitement of the moment was intense. Thus we are forced to conclude that society is one of those brews such as skilled housekeepers serve hot about Christmas time, whose flavour depends upon the proper mixing and stirring of a dozen different ingredients. Take one out, and it is in itself insipid. Take away Lord O., Lord A., Lord C., or Mr M. and separately each is nothing. Stir them all together and they combine to give off the most intoxicating of flavours, the most seductive of scents. Yet this intoxication, this seductiveness, entirely evade our analysis. At one and the same time, therefore, society is everything and society is nothing. Society is the most powerful concoction in the world and society has no existence whatsoever. Such monsters the poets and the novelists alone can deal with; with such something-nothings their works are stuffed out to prodigious size; and to them with the best will in the world we are content to leave it. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#home