What worries me is that, because of the amount of media coverage of food, Britain seems to have become a foodie nation - but I'm not sure it actually has. I'm not sure there's been a huge change in the pantry at home or what we cook for supper.
The birch-bark canoe of the savage seems to me one of the most beautiful and perfect things of the kind constructed by human art.
The democratic and pedestrian character of the new Mass itself seems to invite the ditties that pass for hymns these days.
There are times when the art world seems like a religious empire. There are great cathedral galleries and pilgrimage sites where treasured art pieces are displayed like holy relics, and this can certainly be a great pleasure on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
The problem that I have is with the music business. For some reason it seems almost impossible to get anything, any music, released which includes improvisation or soloing.
Everyone seems to be in a kind of accelerated time mode that is beyond their own control.
My head was always bubbling over with facts and it seems to me this had little to do with my paying close attention in school and more to do with my voracious and omnivorous reading habits.
There seems to be more abiding interest in unearthing old memos abroad than there is here.
It seems, though, that historically we have now reached a position in which Jews cannot legitimately be understood always and only as presumptive victims.
The world is seldom what it seems; to man, who dimly sees, realities appear as dreams, and dreams realities.
If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for the Creator, there is no poverty.
Well it seems to me, that all real communities grow out of a shared confrontation with survival. Communities are not produced by sentiment or mere goodwill. They grow out of a shared struggle. Our situation in the desert is an incubator for community.
I'm somebody who seems to stumble into things 10 or 20 years before the rest of the world does.
It seems like in the beginning of my flight, the space dreams were rare. And now, almost 150 days into it, the Earth dreams are more of the rare ones.
They do say that the profession gets increasingly difficult, but my career seems to have been inside out.
Five years ago I figured we were at the top of our game and that was the best it was going to get, but with every album it seems to keep on building on itself.
People talk about love and it seems like a cliche but it's a real thing - the more love we spread around the world the more it's going to change lives.
I'm partial to epic poetry, which might be surprising given that I don't write poetry at all. The combination of rollicking storytelling with musical language seems to me the highest achievement.
It seems, in fact, as though the second half of a man's life is made up of nothing, but the habits he has accumulated during the first half.
I think mothers are so important. I mean, it seems like such an obvious thing to say, but I think we don't really express that enough, apart from one day a year. So I think we need to come together and celebrate us every day.
Newspapers and magazines have been valuable to us precisely because they apply filters to information, otherwise known as editing, and often the Internet seems valuable for exactly the opposite reason: You can get your news without a filter.
Man should be ever better than he seems.
It's obviously a lot harder to try and be a good guy than it is to be a bad guy. The world is a fundamentally evil place, it seems like. So in order to be a good person, you have to fight temptation and vice.
Happiness is a wine of the rarest vintage, and seems insipid to a vulgar taste.
It seems like when I first started, people got into comedy because they wanted to be good comedians.
Wrestling is different to me. As I talk to other wrestlers, wrestling seems a little different to me than it does to a lot of them. To me, it's about an artistic performance and about honing my artistic performance in pursuit of these minute moments of perfection. These little encapsulations. And none of them are ever perfect.
One is called to live nonviolently, even if the change one works for seems impossible.
It sometimes seems to me that the whole course of English history was one of accident, confusion, chance and unintended consequences - there's no real pattern.
People desire power. I don't know why they want it so. It seems to me it implies a hugely superior intellect which separates them from most of the populace.
The average person - if you had a situation that hit your family and you needed to do something, you would not just go and take a vacation, or you would not do something that's not related to the task at hand. But in Washington, that just seems to be par for the course.
I get to do all these really nice, little culty things. It seems to be the world that keeps inviting me back.
I am still cautiously hopeful about the potential of the Internet. But it seems that the greatest revolution in communication has been hijacked by commercial values.
When you are courting a nice girl an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder a second seems like an hour. That's relativity.
Well, it seems all the fish in the rivers are dying. Could this be an act of cod?
The greatest work of art about New York? The question seems nebulous. The city's magic and majesty are distilled in the photographs of Alfred Stieglitz and Paul Strand.
The snow itself is lonely or, if you prefer, self-sufficient. There is no other time when the whole world seems composed of one thing and one thing only.
