The source known as Deep Throat provided a kind of road map through the scandal. His one consistent message was that the Watergate burglary was just the tip of the iceberg.
Ever since then, all descendant vertebrates have had the forward end of the digestive system and the forward end of the respiratory system very much involved with each other. This manifests itself in the human body with a crossing of the two systems in the throat.
The oblique paradox of propaganda is that the lie in the throat becomes, by repetition, the truth in the heart.
I'm sure any vocal teacher that listens to me would rather cut my throat than do anything - I do everything all wrong - but I think for me that's the best - because I don't think I have a voice so I think what I project would be style - if I learned to sing I'd lose my style.
I'm one of those people who when I go over a bridge, I want to jump. It's just this intense tickle in the back of my throat. It's like I'm on the verge the whole time I'm walking over that bridge, and I'm not going to get a release until I jump.
I am not a big fan of what I call 'ambient television,' which just washes through you in a very polite way. I like television that grabs you by the throat and doesn't let go.
A real diplomat is one who can cut his neighbor's throat without having his neighbor notice it.
I haven't got a car or a house. I've got a wife, but I didn't pay for her! I spend all my money on my glorious wife. She's here with a knife at my throat!
No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.
When someone holds a knife to your throat it's easy to be scared. It's not hard to imagine what it would be like.
You'd have a good voice, if it ever came out of your throat.
Deep Throat did serve the public interest by providing the guidance and information to us.
How does one kill fear, I wonder? How do you shoot a specter through the heart, slash off its spectral head, take it by its spectral throat?
I gravitate toward edgy, intense, dark films that just grab you by the throat.
You can't jam change down the American people's throat.
Every year, I give my dad an advance copy of my latest book. He reads it over the next several nights and says something incredibly supportive. Then he clears his throat nervously and changes the subject.
My singing days have passed. My voice is gone. My throat is worn. And my lungs are going fast.
She bowed her head, clasping her hands tightly before her upon the arm of his chair, for her heart yearned towards him, yet could not reach him, and it made her throat ache with unhappiness to meet that look of his that rested on her face without seeing it.
You don't accomplish a lot by changing people's opinions by shoving facts down their throat. I think you change people's opinions by opening your heart up and showing the parallels between you and another person. That's how people's ideas shift.
I had throat surgery. We had to check that out and make sure it wasn't cancerous. I had a polyp on my vocal cord, so I had that taken out.
I really liked the idea of creating a journal myself. It's like the way I clear my throat. I write a page every day, maybe 500 words. It could be about something I'm specifically worried about in the new novel; it could be a question I want answered; it could be something that's going on in my personal life. I just use it as an exercise.
When death has you by the throat, you don't mince words.
I'm not in a position where I get to pick and choose roles. I usually go on auditions in long lines and embarrass myself in front of casting directors, and with a lump in my throat and my ears burning, I walk past reception and smirking actors as I go to the parking garage and go back on the highway.
I've been singing properly every day since I was about fifteen or sixteen, and I have never had any problems with my voice, ever. I've had a sore throat here and there, had a cold and sung through it, but that day it just went while I was onstage in Paris during a radio show. It was literally like someone had pulled a curtain over it.
For me and accent work, I think once you've figured out where that energy is, where the sound is in your throat or your mouth, it's a whole lot easier to do.
My wife can't cook at all. She made chocolate mousse. An antler got stuck in my throat.
My parents were great at making sure I got out of bed when I needed to play football on a Sunday morning and that I was ready after school to go to training on a Tuesday and Thursday. But it was never forced upon me or rammed down my throat. If it had been, I could have ended up hating sport.
Many of my cartoons are not a belly laugh. I go for nostalgia, the lump in the throat, the tear in the eye, the tug in the heart.
If you can sing, you never lose your voice. If you don't know how to sing, your voice goes away because you sing from your throat.
You need to put your hands around the throat of your business, and you need to run it. There's no other way.
When I was a small boy, 10, 11, 12, probably somewhere around there, when I first heard a blues song on the radio, it was a jolt of electricity. It grabbed me by the throat, it made me shiver. And I knew from that moment that this was for me and this would be with me for the rest of my life.
I would be a giraffe because I just want to experience what a sore throat and being a giraffe feels like. It would be really uncomfortable walking around in the Sahara and being like, 'I really need, like, 15 lozenges for my giraffe body.'
I've been to a couple of restaurants in L.A. that were so loud, I left there with a sore throat; you literally could not have a conversation. I think it's very deliberate: There's this idea that somehow it's more fun if there's a roar in the room.
Ah, but it's nice to be in the opposition, nice to be a bone in somebody's throat.
It happens to the best of them. You lay off singing and your throat gets out of practice. No excuses. I blew it.
Baseball is a rookie, his experience no bigger than the lump in his throat as he begins fulfillment of his dream.