I want to have the fun of doing anime and I love anime, but I can't do storyboards because I can't really draw and that's what they live and die on.
quote by Quentin Tarantino
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I Cry Alone
I CRY ALONE
CAUSE THERES NOONE HOME
I CRY ALONE
MOM WENT AWAY.
I CRY ALONE
CAUSE I HAVE NO HOME
I CRY ALONE
CAUSE I HAVE NO JOY.
I CRY ALONE
CAUSE IAM NOT ME ANYMORE
I CRY ALONE
CAUSE I JUST WANT 2 GO HOME.
~ANIME GUL ROX~
poem by Anime Gurl Rox
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My kids love anime, but I don't show them the really graphic stuff.
I take time to watch anime. I don't know whether I'm allowed to, but I do it anyway.
quote by Larry Wall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'd forgotten I'd done the anime called Spirited Away, the English version of a Japanese film.
quote by David Ogden Stiers
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The rise of anime had to happen. If the Japanese could tell better American stories, it would go through the roof. They still tell stories which are very much oriental. I take my hat off to them.
quote by Ralph Bakshi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Best place 2 be
If I would go to a place, where would I be?
I could go Paris, full of artistic scenery
Or maybe to Japan, the land of all ye “anime buddy”
I could go to China, gateway to the”forbidden city”
Or went to Italy, and eat lots of pasta and pastry…
I could go to USA, home of “kingdom Disney”
Or just swim through the borders of Hawaii
Whatever place, whatever scenery I went and see,
I’d always return to the place, were I could be “Me” in deep serenity
poem by Kaizer Phanton
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My Children Dear
My daughter Jessica
Leaves me with a dilemma
She loves to bake
But crafts we make
To pay those bills
Manana
My daughter Jennifer
She is the lady preacher
Had a degree as therapist
But handles now
A prayer list
Alleluia!
My son James Paul
Eldest of all
He loves to do Adobe
In graphic arts
Lies there his heart
But I do
Anime!
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Mi Feliz
Funny and so cute she is
Elegant, I'm so pleased
Lovable not like other else
I don't now what she felts
Zero doubts she's Crazy
Mi feliz, Likes japanese
yet she look like chinese
For She sometimes need to eat some cheese
Really fights through anime feast
Indeed the best of everyone
Everything's just Japan!
Never wanted anyone, aside from number one
Dreamed to look like Haruna
'She's Proud to be Rizalista
(Charming loves Sakura
.
Pink or momoiro, IMBA!)
I think She'd been so tetanus
And now she was too Carlus
Merry with every status
THANKFUL TO HAVE my filos.
poem by Ellirie Aviles
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Not ready to yell
I have this friend of mine.
Who is obsessed with animé
Who can only express anger
When shugo chara is gay
So I decided to teach her.
What anger was about.
So that if Ikuto came back
She'd still know how to pout
But after failure and failure.
I couldn't get her to scream
Turns out anger
Is harder than it seems
'Ikuto sucks! '
I yelled to try and get her mad.
Which earned a proud glare
But left me feeling sad.
Anger wasn't her forté
So it clearly showed
why bother trying to change her
when her smile always glowed
There wasn't any point
To make her mad as hell.
When this rambunxious weird girl.
Was not quite ready to yell.
poem by Silence Dogood
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Laputa
Inspired by the epic anime,
'Laputa, Castle in the Sky',
I decided to build my own castle,
A castle that would fly!
At first I tested some bricks,
I lobbed them far and wide.
I lobbed them at my owner,
They hit him and he cried.
I tried with lumps of concrete,
And with some heavy breeze blocks.
I got a little despondent,
At the flightlessness of rocks.
But, I persevered.
I worked all day and night,
My owner made a bet that I would fail.
But I was finished by morning light.
I had built a flying castle!
My owner was rather heated.
He couldn't believe that I had won.
He claimed that I had cheated.
It was a flying castle,
as plain as any day.
My owner wasn't having it.
He's a bad loser, I'd say.
He said it wasn't real.
He said, 'It's not a proper thing, you loon!
'You've inflated a bouncy castle with helium'
'and made a big balloon! '
poem by Sebastian Seal
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One of the main things I do is focus on ideas and what stories we decide to tell, but probably the biggest part of my job I'd say is working on the storyboards.
quote by Craig McCracken
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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L'âme
J'ai dans mon coeur, j'ai sous mon front
Une âme invisible et présente :
Ceux qui doutent la chercheront ;
Je la répands pour qu'on la sente.
Partout scintillent les couleurs,
Mais d'où vient cette force en elles ?
Il existe un bleu dont je meurs,
Parce qu'il est dans les prunelles.
Tous les corps offrent des contours,
Mais d'où vient la forme qui touche ?
Comment fais-tu les grands amours,
Petite ligne de la bouche ?
Partout l'air vibre et rend des sons,
Mais d'où vient le délice intime
Que nous apportent ces frissons
Quand c'est une voix qui l'anime ?
J'ai dans mon coeur, j'ai sous mon front
Une âme invisible et présente :
Ceux qui doutent la chercheront ;
je la répands pour qu'on la sente.
poem by Rene Francois Armand Prudhomme
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A Lost Cause
Reading "Principle-Centred Leadership" by
Stephen Covey I feel totally crushed under
the weight of my own immaturity - subject
to sensuous delights, although I always get
up in time for work, a small victory which
underpins successes - he says
We all fall short in focusing on principles
instead of moods and feelings - trying to
wash the chewing gum out of my hair
where it got stuck because I put it there
watching an Anime series "Ourin High
School" with Nici sitting on her bed -
I realise I do not meet even the most basic
principle of leadership, being at the mercy
of words and dreams - he says successful
people defeat their moods immediately as
they practice these skills - I've been trying
to climb the wrong ladder, developing
Artistic expression instead of being a well-
rounded person - now I am literally round
and this is wrong, it indicates my passions
are too strong - and this is wrong, wrong,
wrong, too-do run-run, to-do run-run - oh
dear, here comes a snatch of a song
Covey would throw me out of his course
as a lost cause…
"Principle-Centred Leadership" by Stephen
R. Covey - Simon and Schuster UK Ltd,1992
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Draw Me A Map Of This World
lady draw me a map of
this world
and tell me where the
mountains and
rivers are
draw me an island
of soft grass
where a man and
woman can rest
and make love
draw me a pond
a larger one where
the orange goldfish
are fat where the
swans can swim
draw me some
clouds where the
birds can fly
make them real
please
i need all of them
for me
to be real today.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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ER DUELLO DE DAVIDE (David's Duel)
Cos'è er braccio de Dio! mannà un fischietto
Contr'a quer buggiarone de Golìa,
Che si n'avessi avuto fantasia
Lo poteva ammazzà cor un fichetto!
Eppuro, accusì è. Dio benedetto
Vorze mostrà ppe tutta la Giudia,
Che chi è divoto de Gesù e Maria
Po' stà cor un gigante appett'appetto.
Ar vede un pastorello co la fionna,
Strillò Golìa, sartanno in piede: "Oh cazzo!
Stavorta, fijo mio, l'hai fatta tonna".
Ma er fatto annò ch'er povero regazzo,
Grazzie all'anime sante e a la Madonna,
Lo fece cascà giù come un pupazzo.
English
How powerful is God's hand! to send a child
Against that huge Goliath,
Who could have killed him with a cuff,
If only he had wished to!
But this is how it went. The holy God
Wanted to show throughout the land of Judaea,
That he who is devout to Jesus and Mary
Has the same strength of a giant.
In seeing a young shepherd with a sling,
Goliath jumped to his feet, shouting: "Damn!
This time, my son, you've really done it".
But it turned out that the poor boy,
Thanks to the blessed souls [1] and to Our Lady,
Made him fall down like a puppet.
poem by Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
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Peut-être
Peut-être
Lorsque mon dernier jour viendra,
Peut-être
Qu'à ma fenêtre,
Ne fût-ce qu'un instant,
Un soleil frêle et tremblotant
Se penchera.
Mes mains alors, mes pauvres mains décolorées
Seront quand même encore par sa gloire dorées ;
Il glissera son baiser lent, clair et profond
Une dernière fois, sur ma bouche et mon front,
Et les fleurs de mes yeux, pâles, mais encore fières
Avant de se fermer lui rendront sa lumière.
Soleil, ai-je adoré ta force et ta clarté !
Mon art torride et doux, de son geste suprême,
T'a retenu captif au coeur de mes poèmes ;
Comme un champ de blé mûr qui houle au vent d'été,
Telle page t'anime et t'exalte en mes livres,
Ô toi, soleil qui fais éclore et qui délivres,
Ô toi, l'immense ami dont l'orgueil a besoin,
Fais qu'à cette heure grave, impérieuse et neuve
Où mon vieux coeur humain sera lourd sous l'épreuve,
Tu sois encore son visiteur et son témoin.
poem by Emile Verhaeren
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La Frivolite
Mère du vain caprice et du léger prestige,
La fantaisie ailée autour d'elle voltige,
Nymphe au corps ondoyant, né de lumière et d'air,
Qui, mieux que l'onde agile ou le rapide éclair,
Ou la glace inquiète au soleil présentée,
S'allume en un instant, purpurine, argentée,
Ou s'enflamme de rose, ou pétille d'azur.
Un vol la précipite, inégal et peu sûr.
La déesse jamais ne connut d'autre guide.
Les Rêves transparents, troupe vaine et fluide,
D'un vol étincelant caressent ses lambris.
Auprès d'elle à toute heure elle occupe les Ris.
L'un pétrit les baisers des bouches embaumées;
L'autre, le jeune éclat des lèvres enflammées;
L'autre, inutile et seul, au bout d'un chalumeau
En globe aérien souffle une goutte d'eau.
La reine, en cette cour qu'anime la folie,
Va, vient, chante, se tait, regarde, écoute, oublie,
Et, dans mille cristaux qui portent son palais,
Rit de voir mille fois étinceler ses traits.
poem by Andre Marie de Chenier
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I love you for any part you offer.
Dear Clove, I love you
though your love to me is as bud.
Dear Rose, I adore you
though your love for me is as petals.
Dear Cherry, I cherish you
for all your love of berry.
Dear Poppy, I am happy
with you, for your love as seed.
Dear Croton, you too I love
Though your love is only leaves.
Every plant is of my love
as I know their limitation.
I don’t expect that
I woo each plant to seeding.
I confine myself to the availability,
From where I draw my sensibilities.
I live and plants live.
The love is not scorched mid way.
03.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sonnet IX: If This Be Love
If this be love, to draw a weary breath,
Paint on floods, till the shore, cry to th'air,
With downward looks still reading on the earth,
The sad memorials of my love's despair.
If this be love, to war against my soul,
Lie down to wail, rise up to sigh and grieve me,
The never-resting stone of care to roll,
Still to complain my griefs, and none relieve me.
If this be love, to clothe me with dark thoughts,
Haunting untrodden paths to wail apart,
My pleasures horror, music tragic notes,
Tears in my eyes, and sorrow at my heart.
If this be love, to live a living death,
O then love I and draw this weary breath.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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The Wonderful Cross
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died
My Richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride
See from His head His hands His feet
Sorrow and love mingled down
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
Bides me come and die and find
that I may truly live
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
All who gather here by grace
draw here and bless your name
Were the whole realm of nature mine
That were and an off'ring far too small
Love so amazing so divine
Demands my soul my life my all
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
Bids me come and die and find
that I may truly live
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
All who gather here by grace
draw here and bless your name
Life so amazing, so divine
Demands my soul. my life, my all
and the beauty and the shame
in the glory of His name
Oh the wonderful cross
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
Bids me come and die and find
that I may truly live
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
All who gather here by grace
draw here and bless your name
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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