My life is about ups and downs, great joys and great losses.
Time is really the only capital that any human being has and the thing that he can least afford to waste or lose.
Ah, you loved me as a loser, but now you’re worried that I just might win.
You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.
You are free and that is why you are lost.
Winners embrace hard work. They love the discipline of it, the trade-off they’re making to win. Losers, on the other hand, see it as punishment. And that’s the difference.
Waste is worse than loss. The time is coming when every person who lays claim to ability will keep the question of waste before him constantly. The scope of thrift is limitless.
The thing I lose patience with the most is the clock. Its hands move too fast.
Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts… perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
Part of me suspects that I’m a loser and the other part of me thinks I’m God Almighty.
Our moments of inspiration are not lost though we have no particular poem to show for them; for those experiences have left an indelible impression, and we are ever and anon reminded of them.
My sense of proprietorship has been so weak that actually I didn’t pay attention and I lost the copyrights on a lot of the songs.