Saint Quotes - Page 35

Ninety-seven saint days a year wouldn't affect the theater, but two Yom Kippurs would ruin it.

My wife is a saint. She's Gandhi. She walks around in diapers and won't eat.

Charisma is a sign of the calling. Saints and pilgrims are defiantly moved by it.

That the saints were usually in ill luck does not canonize you.

If you scratch some saints you will find the devil.

Those that say they despise riches are saints or liars.

Immortality makes sense only when the individual soul can be thought of as merging into a great collective mush of sainthood. If we take anything with us into the next world, it is not what survives in the memories of our relicts.

I'm not a saint. I'm not an angel. I'm a human being.

For me the road became a zone, in places like Saint Marks poetry Project where I worked for 12 years.

The Saints come, as human as a mouth, with a bag of God in their backs, like a hunchback, they come, they come marching in.

In the chapel you prayed to be a saint and now I will make you a god.

I can't get very far away from Christianity, I can't get very far away from the angels and the saints. I work them in always, in some way.

We have to become saints. We have to become like Christ. Anything less is simply not enough.

Must not I then entertain the saints because I must keep my conscience.

He's earned a lifetime of peace and happiness, but some people never get what they deserve. That's why there are saints in gutters and sadists in palaces.

There is a happy land, Far, far away, Where Saints in glory stand, Bright, bright as day.

I have a portrait of Saint Thomas More in my office.

I want to be a saint, a real saint while I am young, for there is so much work to do.

The emblem on the necktie reserved for the members of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews - The Vatican of golf - is of St. Andrew himself bearing the slatier cross on which, once he was captured at Patras, he was to be stretched before he was crucified.Only the Scots would have thought of celebrating a national game with the figure of a tortured saint.

Not what we think, but what we do, / Makes saints of us: all stiff and cold, / The outlines of the corpse show through / The cloth of gold.

I am a count, not a saint.

No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n, Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n; But such plain roofs as Piety could raise, And only vocal with the Maker's praise.

A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn.

Whether the charmer sinner it, or saint it, If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.

At Yves Saint Laurent, I felt like the son-in-law - like I was part of the family, but not quite. When I was fired, I felt like the widow.