New Orleans is a city whose basic industry is the service industry. That's why it makes its money. That's - it brings people to the city. People come to the city and experience the wonders of this extraordinary city and everything else. The question is that, how do we create jobs which are the jobs that have pay, that - living wages?

I have done my time living on the run. I'm British and I want to come home.

Traditions are imploding and exploding everywhere - everything is coming together, for better or worse, and we can no longer pretend we're all living in different worlds because we're on different continents.

I waited and worked, and watched the inferior exalted for nearly thirty years; and when recognition came at last, it was too late to alter events, or to make a difference in living.

What you get is a living, what you give is a life.

Fortunately art is a community effort - a small but select community living in a spiritualized world endeavoring to interpret the wars and the solitudes of the flesh.

I had business experience. I had made my living designing and building electronic equipment. Basic business was not new to me, but the music business was completely new to me. I knew nothing about distribution, or any of those things.

We've gotten involved in cat rescue - we take them in and find homes for them. I've always loved cats. I saw how homeless cats were living out there. We take them in, put out flyers.

An energy tax punishes senior citizens, it punishes rural Americans, if you use electricity it punishes you. This bill will increase your cost of living and may kill your job.

In order to effectively protect our loved ones, we must provide the American public with unfettered access to know who these dangerous criminals are and where they are living.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens.

When we got down from the ambulances there were sharp cracks about us as bursts of shrapnel splashed down upon the Town Hall square. Dead soldiers lay outside and I glanced at them coldly. We were in search of the living.

The silver swan, who, living had no note, When death approached unlocked her silent throat.

I'll never get used to living without Mo, but the painful things that surround what happened to him aren't so painful any more-not so raw or so new.