To conclude that women are unfitted to the task of our historic society seems to me the equivalent of closing male eyes to female facts.
Everything seems fine until you’re about 40. Then something is definitely beginning to go wrong. And you look in the mirror with your old habit of thinking, ‘While I accept that everyone grows old and dies, it’s a funny thing, but I’m an exception to that rule.’
Thinking about Amazon’s restraints – the company has never tried to introduce a social network or an email service, for example – you can understand something about the future Amazon seems to envision: A time when no screen is needed at all, just your voice.
The more original a discovery, the more obvious it seems afterwards.
Nothing is insignificant in the history of a young community, and – above all – nothing seems impossible.
The health of the eye seems to demand a horizon. We are never tired, so long as we can see far enough.
Every once in a while, something happens to you that makes you realise that the human race is not quite as bad as it so often seems to be.
Our understanding, great as it sometimes seems, can be nothing but the wide-eyed wonder of the child when measured against omniscience.
Almost everyone seems to worry about something, and yet, we rarely talk about worry as a problem. Maybe that is because worry is so integrated into the way we have come to live and be in the world that we don’t even notice it.
Whatever I do seems artificial and false, to me.
Humility was an important part of the way I grew up. And I found that to be less common when I moved to California. That’s not to say humble people don’t exist there, but ambition seems really important.
Real joy seems to me almost as unlike security or prosperity as it is unlike agony.
It seems to me if you want something badly enough, whether you’re a man or a woman, you’ll do whatever you have to do to get it.
At the same time, much of it seems to have to do with recreating things we or others had already done; it seems rather derivative intellectually; is there a dearth of really new ideas?
It seems like everybody’s perception of me is very bipolar. To one group, it’s overpaid, overrated; to another group, it’s underpaid, underrated, underdog. It’s funny to me because there’s no real balance.
The idea that I should become president seems to me too visionary to require a serious answer. It has never entered my head, nor is it likely to enter the head of any other person.
In my case, I got hit a lot by bullies when I was a child, and so I naturally bristle against anybody who abuses power. And that seems to make me rather persistent when it comes to exposing the abuse of power.
With color one obtains an energy that seems to stem from witchcraft.
Education for all seems to be the product of a type of distributive justice that is in no way related to the individual.
To power the country by building 186,000 fifty-story wind turbines – and running 19,000 miles of new transmission lines – just seems impractical and preposterous compared to the idea of building a hundred new nuclear facilities primarily on the sites we already have.
People are fascinated about the world above them because it seems so out-of-reach.
Film seems to be a medium designed for betrayal and violence.
My friends tease me about the fact that if someone seems bad or shady or like they have a secret, I find them incredibly interesting.
While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die – whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness.
There’s something fundamentally wrong with a system where there’s been 17 years of a Tory Government and the people of Scotland have voted Socialist for 17 years. That hardly seems democratic.
I’ve learned the lesson that when you’re in the middle of something that seems overwhelming, or you’re in a bad situation and it seems like it’s the end of the world or whatever, then you learn that it’s not.
The long time to come when I shall not exist has more effect on me than this short present time, which nevertheless seems endless.
When a man meets a woman who seems too perfect, too sweet, or too agreeable, he tends to become bored very quickly.
The older we get, the swifter time seems to pass and the quicker memories seem to fade.
Words can be said in bitterness and anger, and often there seems to be an element of truth in the nastiness. And words don’t go away, they just echo around.
I don’t know the rules of grammar… If you’re trying to persuade people to do something, or buy something, it seems to me you should use their language, the language they use every day, the language in which they think. We try to write in the vernacular.
If we know anything about man, it’s that he’s not pacific. The temptation to butcher anyone considered undesirable seems to be a common temptation, not always resisted.
I’m sure the feeling of fear, as long as you can take advantage of it and not be rendered useless by it, can make you extend yourself beyond what you would regard as your capacity. If you’re afraid, the blood seems to flow freely through the veins, and you really do feel a sense of stimulation.
I had always wanted to become a neurologist, which is one of the most demanding vocations in medicine. Where do you stop, after all, with the brain? How does it function? What are its limits? The work seems unending.
Art, it seems to me, doesn’t need freedom so much as it needs courage and love – some would call it ‘soul’ or ‘Eros.’
Awards are not something that I measure my work by. I’ve been so fortunate and I’ve gotten to do such terrific things that it seems petty to look back and say, ‘Oh, I should have gotten that prize.’ I don’t look at it that way.
Don’t forget there are two sides to performing. Finding the truth, but you also have to be transparent enough for the audience to see it. How many times have you seen a performance and thought: ‘Well, it seems to be meaning a great deal to you but it ain’t coming across to me?’ It is to be shared.
Death seems to be a long way off. Is this not shallow thinking? It is worthless and is only a joke within a dream. It will not do to think in such a way and be negligent. Insofar as death is always at one’s door, one should make sufficient effort and act quickly.
The world we see that seems so insane is the result of a belief system that is not working. To perceive the world differently, we must be willing to change our belief system, let the past slip away, expand our sense of now, and dissolve the fear in our minds.
It seems essential, in relationships and all tasks, that we concentrate only on what is most significant and important.
Adaptation seems to be, to a substantial extent, a process of reallocating your attention.
The work of black creatives seems to always get undermined in one way or another, and that’s what this new generation is actively changing by speaking up. We aren’t accepting group categorization and group classifications to describe our work anymore – it just leads to group dismissal.
I do not support raising the minimum wage, and the reason is as follows. When the minimum wage is raised, workers are priced out of the market. That is the economic reality that seems, at least so far, to be missing from this discussion.
How simple a thing it seems to me that to know ourselves as we are, we must know our mothers names.
Mr. Fitzgerald, I believe that is how he spells his name, seems to believe that plagiarism begins at home.
Most people, it seems, stretch the truth to make themselves seem more impressive. I, it seems, stretch the truth to make myself look worse.
Law without education is a dead letter. With education the needed law follows without effort and, of course, with power to execute itself; indeed, it seems to execute itself.
We must, however, acknowledge, as it seems to me, that man with all his noble qualities… still bears in his bodily frame the indelible stamp of his lowly origin.
If I’m out shopping, in Topshop or wherever, I’m never spotted. In fact, I’m usually asked if I have a student card. No-one seems to notice me, they’re oblivious to who I am even in Scotland, and I’m very happy to be able to blend in with the crowd.
Everyone says corruption is everywhere, but for me it seems strange to say that and then not try to put the people guilty of that corruption away.
And it seems to me important for a country, for a nation to certainly know about its glorious achievements but also to know where its ideals failed, in order to keep that from happening again.
Our errors are surely not such awfully solemn things. In a world where we are so certain to incur them in spite of all our caution, a certain lightness of heart seems healthier than this excessive nervousness on their behalf.
It’s like they had a backlash the first 11 years. I think the reason why it always seems like there’s a backlash is because when bands are unknown, they only get written about by fans.
This assumption that the blue collar crowd is not supposed to read it, or a farmer in his overalls is not to read poetry, seems to be dangerous if not tragic.
That which seems the height of absurdity in one generation often becomes the height of wisdom in another.
