Habit makes everything, even love.
Half a bad deal is still a bad deal.
Happiness does not come from doing easy work but from the afterglow of satisfaction that comes after the achievement of a difficult task that demanded our best.
Happiness is a conscious choice, not an automatic response.
Happiness is a similar incentive to mediocrity.
Happiness is equilibrium.
Happiness is essentially banal.
Happiness is hard to find in ourselves and impossible to find elsewhere.
Happiness is not something you experience, it's something you remember.
Happy are those who dream dreams and are ready to pay the price to make them come true.
Happy countries and honest women have no stories to tell about themselves.
"Hard drill"-focus all your weight and energy in one place to penetrate market rather than applying pressure everywhere at once and making no dent at all.
Hard work conquers everything. (Omnia labor vincit improbus.)
Hard work makes dreams come true.
Harmony is a Japanese thing. It's not a word we use here.
Hatred is like swallowing poison and expecting someone else to die.
Hatred is the coward's revenge for being intimidated.
Have the courage to say no. Have the courage to face the truth. Do the right thing because it is right.
Having a great time, wish I were here.
Having real power is not having to use it.
He avoided becoming a has-been because he never really was.
He brought a knife to a gunfight.
He can run, but he can't hide.
He can't help it. He was born that way.
He couldn't run a lemonade stand on a hot day.
He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
He doesn't bring too much to the party.
He doesn't have much conscience, but he's got a lot of heart.
He doesn't know if it's Tuesday or Christmas.
He dreamed with his eyes open.
He expresses absolute conviction in moments of wholly misguided affection.
He folded like an internet start-up.
He followed his father's footsteps, but his gait was somewhat erratic.
He gave no mercy and expected none.
He had a chameleon's ability to reflect his surroundings and an artist's discernment to illuminate them.
He had as much business being there as a moose in a phone booth.
He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it.
He has fixed goals, but changes tactics freely.
He had the temperament and wisdom of a cab driver: his foot was slammed down either on the accelerator or on the brake; he knew no moderation and had no judgment.
He has a brilliant mind, until he makes it up.
He has all the attributes of a dog, except loyalty.
He has charisma beyond logic.
He has his virtues, but courage is not among them.
He has no discernible personality, sense of humor, or compassion. Ideal traits for a venture capitalist.
He has not been broken in two by time.
He has strong beliefs, but he's not willing to spend a lot of time justifying his position.
He humanizes without sentimentalizing.
He is ferocious and compassionate at the same time.
He is the last person to accept blame.
He joined his head and heart until they operated as one. He was reasoned, but his rationality was never cold.
He just doesn't know what's impossible.
He knows so little, and accomplishes so much.
He laughed but he wasn't sure who the joke was on.
He lies not because it's in his interest, but because it's in his character.
He looked like a tarantula on a piece of angel food.
He looks like a snowman being chased by a blowtorch.
He needs history because it is the storage closet where all the costumes are kept. He notices that none really fits him.
He never betrayed a friend, and he never showed mercy towards an enemy.
He never managed to reconcile himself to his own mediocrity.
He only earns his freedom and existence who daily conquers them anew.
He only wanted to see his reflection in your eyes.
He prefers speed over depth.
He refuses to evaluate either/or equations.
He sat like a furled umbrella.
He situated himself in the midst of those he despised and chose to suffer their displeasure.
He smiled at the world with cold teeth.
He that can't endure the bad will not live to see the good.
He that leaveth nothing to chance will do few things ill, but he will do very few things.
He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind. (Proverbs 11:24)
He travels fastest who travels alone.
He used statistics the way a drunkard uses lampposts-for support, not illumination.
He views every negotiation as the end of the world.
He walked and talked as if he had been born wearing a cape.
He wanted to tread the fine line between shocking people and merely disgusting them.
He wants power without responsibility.
He wants to be where he is not.
He was a man you really had to get to know to dislike.
He was always on the way to someplace else.
He was always open to accident.
He was a self-made man who owed his lack of success to nobody.
He was born premature, and he's been in a hurry ever since.
He was cruel without being interesting.
He was highly motivated. I just never trusted his motives.
He was insane, with long horrible fits of sanity.
He was like a cock who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow.
He was lucky in his enemies.
He was never more candid than he needed to be.
He was propelled by an odd disdain for any objective he managed to attain, as though his ability to accomplish it diminished the inherent value of the achievement.
He was smart enough to know when he shouldn't trust himself.
He was so extremely natural that there was no way of knowing what his nature was, or what came next.
He who believes in nobody knows that he himself is not to be trusted.
He who can see three days ahead will be rich for three thousand years.
He who cannot dance puts the blame on the floor.
He who cannot forgive others breaks the bridge over which he must pass himself.
He who considers too much will perform little.
He who has no charity deserves no mercy.
He who hesitates is lunch.
He who hoots with the owls at night cannot soar with the eagles in the morning.
He who influences the thought of his times influences the times that follow.
He who insists on his own creativity has no memory.
He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love.
He who is without shame, all the world is his.
He who knows best knows how little he knows.
He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.
He who overcomes his enemies by strategy is as much to be praised as he who overcomes them by force.
He who pays the piper calls the tune.
He who raves at the fall of night forsakes the glory of the sunset.
He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount.
He who travels fastest travels alone.
He who walks in another's tracks leaves no footprint.
He who wishes to be rich in a day will be hanged in a year.
He who's not busy being born is busy dying.
He will take no man's money dishonestly and no man's insolence without a due and dispassionate revenge.
He wouldn't give you his earwax.
He wouldn't give you ice in the winter.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. (William Congreve)
Heaven is a little like TV: a perfect little world that doesn't need you.
He'd flirt with dirt.
He'd fuck an umbrella.
Help the world treat him kindly, Lord, but not too easy. Somewhere he has to learn to face the wind.
Her failings and her follies only made me love her more because there were none of them that had not once been mine.
Here in this difficult group, he triumphed with that unique gentleness that was his.
Here there is no why.
Heroes and cowards feel the same fear. Heroes just react differently to it.
He's a boss and nobody likes the boss.
He's a cross between a Ferris wheel and a werewolf. But with a lovable streak if you care to blast for it.
He's a fire hydrant. If you kick it, it's going to hurt you. But it's stable and secure and there when you need it.
He's a man in the grip of a dream.
He's a thoroughbred, pulling the garbage wagon.
He's as great as a man can be, without virtue.
He's easy to underestimate and very hard to read. Those traits usually mean you win.
He's going to fuck you if he can, but it will be just about the money – nothing personal.
He's indispensable, but to what I can't say.
He's in love with himself but fears that his affection may not be reciprocated.
He's so confused he doesn't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his butt.
He's the kinda guy who'd give ya the shirt off your back.
Her ideas were deeply felt, her feelings deepened by reflection.
Her life seemed like a forest being gradually consumed by an inextinguishable fire. It was safe to watch from a distance, but not to get too close to.
Her nose was always pressed to the glass.
High morale, like happiness, cannot be pursued directly; it is a byproduct of otherwise worthwhile activity.
High profile, broken nose.
Hindsight is an exact science.
Hire a young carpenter, but an old physician.
Hire for where you are going, not for where you have been.
Hire great people or die.
Hire paranoids. Even though they have a high false alarm rate, they discover all plots.
His dice don't have all their dots.
His emotions never rise above or fall below a standard deviation of calm.
His failures were greater than most men's successes.
His genius is like cruelty.
His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork.
His reactions are instinctively placatory.
His smile was like the silver plate on a coffin.
His strategy is like using a concrete life jacket.
His talent for temporary self-reinvention makes him invulnerable. Retributive morality never catches him.
His wishes made him turn down the lights so as to give miracle a chance.
History in the making.
History is an account, mostly false, of events, mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers, mostly knaves, and soldiers, mostly fools.
History is an argument without end.
History is the sum total of all the things they aren't telling us.
History knows no resting places and no plateaus.
History may not repeat itself precisely, but it certainly seems to rhyme a lot.
History says don't hope on this side of the grave. But then once in a lifetime, the longed-for tidal wave of justice can rise up, and hope and history rhyme.
Hold on; the morning comes.
Holding on to your idealism after you've lost your innocence.
Hollywood is a great place to live—if you're an orange.
Hollywood is a state of mind, but whose?
Hollywood is great if you don't need it.
Home ice is an advantage in any sport.
Home is a feeling, nothing more. Home is where I hang my head.
Honor never grows old and honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve to be defended, even if it comes at a high cost.
Hope amidst the darkness.
Hopes for the world, not just fears of it.
Hope is not a strategy.
Hope is the faith of dummies.
Hope never abandons you; you abandon it.
Hopefully, you can live in a way so that you can die with the notion that, on balance, the sense of achievement outweighs the regret.
Hot as a fresh fucked fox in a forest fire.
How about never? Is never good for you?
How but in custom and ceremony / Are innocence and beauty born?
How can I miss you if you won't go away?
How can there be any "sin" in sincere?
How competitors react: Ignore
How I regret my time of May.
My days of riot, now no more,
That unperceived stole away
Til age was knocking at my door...(Villon)
How many different things a family can be-a nest of tenderness, a jail for the heart, a nursery of souls. Families name us and define us, give us strength, give us grief. All our lives we struggle to embrace or escape their influence. They are magnets that both hold us close and drive us away.
How much is it worth to know the truth?
Human behavior changes when it is observed.
Human felicity is produced not so much by great pieces of good fortune that seldom happen as by little advantages that occur every day.
Hypocrisy-the tribute that vice pays to virtue.
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