Typical Quotes - page 17
A typical "explained" incident is the one reported by Sir Chester Ramsbottom, on June 5, 1961, in Shropshire: "I was driving along the road at 2 A.M. and saw a cigar-shaped object that seemed to be tracking my car. No matter which way I drove, it stayed with me, turning sharply at right angles. It was a fierce, glowing red, and in spite of twisting and turning the car at high speed I could not lose it. I became alarmed and began sweating. I let out a shriek of terror and apparently fainted, but awoke in a hospital, miraculously unharmed." Upon investigation, experts determined that the "cigar-shaped object" was Sir Chester's nose. Naturally, all his evasive actions could not lose it, since it was attached to his face.
Woody Allen
Taft was cheerful, friendly, a typical hail-fellow-well-met with an infectious chuckle. Always popular, he had many friends but, surprisingly, few intimates. "One of the astonishing things about Taft's four years in the White House," wrote biographer Henry F. Pringle, "was the almost total lack of men, related or otherwise, upon whom he could lean... For the most part he faced his troubles alone." He was not happy as President. The break with his predecessor and former mentor, Theodore Roosevelt, weighed heavily on his mind; he was often irritable, depressed, at least once in tears. He regained his good spirits in retirement and as chief justice.
William Howard Taft
It is a difficult thing to tell the story of a life, and yet more difficult when that life is one's own. At the best, the telling has a savour of vanity, and the only excuse for the proceeding is that the life, being an average one, reflects many others, and in troublous times like ours may give the experience of many rather than of one. And so the autobiographer does his work because he thinks that, at the cost of some unpleasantness to himself, he may throw light on some of the typical problems that are vexing the souls of his contemporaries, and perchance may stretch out a helping hand to some brother who is struggling in the darkness, and so bring him cheer when despair has him in its grip. Preface.
Annie Besant
I'm still not sure what went wrong with the site, so I'll just do what I always do in these situations and assume it was a causality casualty from war with an alternate timeline. Rolling with that assumption on all of life's little problems can give you a terrific perspective on things. Y'know? "Augh, fuck. It's raining!” becomes, "Huh, it's raining,” and then with a bemused nod, "Typical 31st century Mega-Etruscan tactic. ”And then when your friends look at you weird, you can give them a pitying gaze, clutch their heads to your bosom, and lament that they too have been affected by the wars. Something like, "Oh, you poor dear. You've no memory of what never shall be.” I don't have many friends anymore. Not since the war took them.
Brian Clevinger