Quotes about blister

A collection of quotes on the topic of blister, doing, sun, finger.

Quotes about blister

Roald Dahl photo
Milkha Singh photo
Abraham Lincoln photo
Octavia E. Butler photo
Cyril Connolly photo
Abraham Lincoln photo

“Well, I cannot run the political machine; I have enough on my hands without that. It is the people's business, - the election is in their hands. If they turn their backs to the fire, and get scorched in the rear, they'll find they have got to ’sit ’ on the ’blister’!”

Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865) 16th President of the United States

Attributed by Francis Bicknell Carpenter, reporting what a "friend, the private secretary of a cabinet minister", told him about a conversation with Lincoln, whom the friend had met alone in the White House in August 1864. Six Months at the White House with Abraham Lincoln. The Story of a Picture. New York 1866, p. 275 https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=Ny0OAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA275&dq=blister
Posthumous attributions

Sue Monk Kidd photo
Percy Bysshe Shelley photo
Hans Arp photo
Stephen Fry photo

“I think faith in each other is much harder than faith in God or faith in crystals. I very rarely have faith in God; I occasionally have little spasms of it, but they go away, if I think hard enough about it. I am incandescent with rage at the idea of horoscopes and of crystals and of the nonsense of 'New Age', or indeed even more pseudo-scientific things: self-help, and the whole culture of 'searching for answers', when for me, as someone brought up in the unashamed Western tradition of music and poetry and philosophy, all the answers are there in the work that has been done by humanity before us, in literature, in art, in science, in all the marvels that have created this moment now, instead of people looking away. The image to me... is gold does exist, and for 'gold' say 'truth', say 'the answer', say 'love', say 'justice', say anything: it does exist. But the only way in this world you can achieve gold is to be incredibly intelligent about geology, to learn what mankind has learnt, to learn where it might lie, and then break your fingers and blister your skin in digging for it, and then sweat and sweat in a forge, and smelt it. And you will have gold, but you will never have it by closing your eyes and wishing for it. No angel will lean out of the bar of heaven and drop down sheets of gold for you. And we live in a society in which people believe they will. But the real answer, that there is gold, and that all you have to do is try and understand the world enough to get down into the muck of it, and you will have it, you will have truth, you will have justice, you will have understanding, but not by wishing for it.”

Stephen Fry (1957) English comedian, actor, writer, presenter, and activist

From Radio 4's Bookclub http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p00f8l3b
2000s

Ringo Starr photo

“I got blisters on my fingers!”

Ringo Starr (1940) British musician, former member of the Beatles

"Helter Skelter," from "The Beatles (White Album)" (1968)

Alexander Mackenzie photo
John Dos Passos photo
Mark Knopfler photo
Charles Lamb photo

“Nay, rather,
Plant divine, of rarest virtue;
Blisters on the tongue would hurt you.”

Charles Lamb (1775–1834) English essayist

A Farewell to Tobacco (1805)

Josh Billings photo
Courtney Love photo

“I've got a blister from touching everything I see
The abyss opens up
It steals everything from me”

Courtney Love (1964) American punk singer-songwriter, musician, actress, and artist

"Softer, Softest"
Song lyrics, Live Through This (1994)

Jehst photo

“I stand in the blistering heat as the epitome
of the anti-hero
Stitchin' up my injuries and flippin' imagery
, mixing toxins 'til I'm lost in the synergy”

Jehst (1979) British rapper

High Plains Anthem
The Return of the Drifter EP (2002)

Noel Gallagher photo
Francisco De Goya photo

“[that] the highly praised handsomeness of my little son had disappeared and in its place was a monstrosity completely covered with pox blisters. Can you imagine how I felt?”

Francisco De Goya (1746–1828) Spanish painter and printmaker (1746–1828)

letter to his friend Martín Zapater https://www.wikidata.org/wiki/Q3915977 and https://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bestand:Francisco_de_Goya_-_Portrait_of_Mart%C3%ADn_Zapater_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg, n.p. Madrid, 10 November 1790, at Christies website
The illness (probably chickenpox) of his only surviving son, Francisco Javier, also meant that Goya would be kept from his duties as 'pintor da camara' at the palace, because of forty days quarantine. http://www.christies.com/lotfinder/Lot/goya-y-lucientes-francisco-de-1746-1828-autograph-4939859-details.aspx
1790s

P.G. Wodehouse photo

“She loves this newt-nuzzling blister.”

Right Ho, Jeeves (1934)

Clarence Thomas photo
Stephen Crane photo
John Millington Synge photo

“Lord, confound this surly sister,
Blight her brow with blotch and blister,
Cramp her larynx, lung and liver,
In her guts a galling give her.”

John Millington Synge (1871–1909) Irish playwright, poet, prose writer, and collector of folklore

The Curse.

John Dos Passos photo
George Carlin photo
Thierry Henry photo

“And then there is the magnificent Thierry Henry - someone who has blistering pace and is unbelievable when he is finishing at his best.”

Thierry Henry (1977) French association football player

Alan Hansen Alan Hansen's column http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/4802114.stm,(13 March 2006).
About

Donald E. Westlake photo

“The August sun, God's blood-blister…”

Donald E. Westlake (1933–2008) American novelist

Watch Your Back (2006)

Harriet Beecher Stowe photo

“He declared that the gold made in it was distilled from human blood, from mothers' tears, from the agonies and dying groans of gasping, suffocating men and women, and that it would sear and blister the soul of him that touched it; in short, he talked as whole-souled, unpractical fellows are apt to talk about what respectable people sometimes do. Nobody had ever instructed him that a slaveship, with a procession of expectant sharks in its wake, is a missionary institution, by which closely. packed heathens are brought over to enjoy the light of the Gospel.”

Harriet Beecher Stowe (1811–1896) Abolitionist, author

The Minister's Wooing (1859) Ch. 1 Pre-Railroad Times.
Context: He was called a good fellow, — only a little lumpish, — and as he was brave and faithful, he rose in time to be a shipmaster. But when came the business of making money, the aptitude for accumulating, George found himself distanced by many a one with not half his general powers. What shall a man do with a sublime tier of moral faculties, when the most profitable business out of his port is the slave-trade? So it was in Newport in those days. George's first voyage was on a slaver, and he wished himself dead many a time before it was over, — and ever after would talk like a man beside himself, if the subject was named. He declared that the gold made in it was distilled from human blood, from mothers' tears, from the agonies and dying groans of gasping, suffocating men and women, and that it would sear and blister the soul of him that touched it; in short, he talked as whole-souled, unpractical fellows are apt to talk about what respectable people sometimes do. Nobody had ever instructed him that a slaveship, with a procession of expectant sharks in its wake, is a missionary institution, by which closely. packed heathens are brought over to enjoy the light of the Gospel. So, though George was acknowledged to be a good fellow, and honest as the noon-mark on the kitchen floor, he let slip so many chances of making money as seriously to compromise his reputation among thriving folks. He was wastefully generous — insisted on treating every poor dog that came in his way, in any foreign port, as a brother — absolutely refused to be party in cheating or deceiving the heathen on any shore, or in skin of any color — and also took pains, as far as in him lay, to spoil any bargains which any of his subordinates founded on the ignorance or weakness of his fellow-men. So he made voyage after voyage, and gained only his wages and the reputation among his employers of an incorruptibly honest fellow.

Robert M. Pirsig photo

“He begins to discard things, encumbrances that he has carried with him all his life. He tells his wife to leave with the children, to consider themselves separated. Fear of loathsomeness and shame disappear when his urine flows not deliberately but naturally on the floor of the room. Fear of pain, the pain of the martyrs is overcome when cigarettes burn not deliberately but naturally down into his fingers until they are extinguished by blisters formed by their own heat. His wife sees his injured hands and the urine on the floor and calls for help.
But before help comes, slowly, imperceptibly at first, the entire consciousness of Phædrus begins to come apart — to dissolve and fade away. Then gradually he no longer wonders what will happen next. He knows what will happen next, and tears flow for his family and for himself and for this world.”

Source: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (1974), Ch. 30
Context: For three days and three nights, Phædrus stares at the wall of the bedroom, his thoughts moving neither forward nor backward, staying only at the instant. His wife asks if he is sick, and he does not answer. His wife becomes angry, but Phædrus listens without responding. He is aware of what she says but is no longer able to feel any urgency about it. Not only are his thoughts slowing down, but his desires too. And they slow and slow, as if gaining an imponderable mass. So heavy, so tired, but no sleep comes. He feels like a giant, a million miles tall. He feels himself extending into the universe with no limit.
He begins to discard things, encumbrances that he has carried with him all his life. He tells his wife to leave with the children, to consider themselves separated. Fear of loathsomeness and shame disappear when his urine flows not deliberately but naturally on the floor of the room. Fear of pain, the pain of the martyrs is overcome when cigarettes burn not deliberately but naturally down into his fingers until they are extinguished by blisters formed by their own heat. His wife sees his injured hands and the urine on the floor and calls for help.
But before help comes, slowly, imperceptibly at first, the entire consciousness of Phædrus begins to come apart — to dissolve and fade away. Then gradually he no longer wonders what will happen next. He knows what will happen next, and tears flow for his family and for himself and for this world.

Josh Duffy photo

“If ignorance is bliss, then I’m a blister.”

Josh Duffy (1978) Subject of the documentary THE MAYOR

Film Quotes