Feb
4
Nicht ganz gesund
Filed Under Spruchreif, Viva la Musica | Leave a Comment
People who are creative are not mentally right to begin with.
(Richard Marx, Musiker und Produzent im San Francisco Chronicle)
Feb
3
Terrible movies?
Filed Under Kinowelt, Spruchreif, Viva la Musica | Leave a Comment
One of my best friends, in a way, is Bruce Willis. I mean, terrible movies. We know that. But a great [harmonica] player.
(Keith Richards in Entertainment Weekly)
Dec
10
Burned out
Filed Under Internal Affairs, Spruchreif | 3 Comments
If you write for a living, you need an unquenchable delight in the actual work of writing; otherwise, you will get burned out on whatever you’re writing about, no matter how much you love it.
(Mick LaSalle)
Sep
24
Already full
Filed Under Spruchreif | 2 Comments
There can’t be another crisis. My schedule’s already full!
(Henry Kissinger)
Jun
21
Do you feel lucky?
Filed Under San Francisco, Spruchreif | Leave a Comment
I know what you’re thinking. ‘Did he fire six shots or only five?’ Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya, punk?
(Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry, 1971)
Jun
18
Long hair
Filed Under Spruchreif | 1 Comment
The thing that most people don’t realize is that it’s warmer to have long hair. Everybody wants to be warm. People with short hair freeze easily. Then they try to hide their coldness, and they get jealous of everybody that’s warm. Then they become either barbers or congressmen. A lot of prison wardens have short hair. Have you ever noticed that Abraham Lincoln’s hair was much longer than John Wilkes Booth’s?
(Bob Dylan, 1966)
Jun
1
Fehlschuss
Filed Under Spruchreif | Leave a Comment
How often we recall, with regret, that Napoleon once shot at a magazine editor and missed him and killed a publisher. But we remember with charity that his intentions were good.
(Mark Twain)