Whoever invented double clicking should be shot in the head! Twice!
I would say that I'm opinionated and clumsy and I am definitely led by my heart over my head.
In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud: Under the bludgeoning of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.
If you hit a midget on the head with a stick, he turns into 40 gold coins.
A good head and a good heart are always a formidable combination.
I didn't tell any of my friends that I wanted to be a comedian, because I was superstitious. I thought if I told people, it wouldn't happen. So I kept it all in my head for years and years.
The surprising thing was, it's actually easier working on animation than working on a comic strip, because Garfield is animated in my head.
My jokes are in my head and I have a duplicate copy of my jokes in a lot of British comics' heads, where they are safe.
I hardly ever go into the studio with a work complete in my head. It emerges from communal activity.
Skip the religion and politics, head straight to the compassion. Everything else is a distraction.
I don't take compliments so well. I always hang my head and shuffle and kind of try to immediately forget.
At the end of the competition, I played the Liszt concerto and I felt my head was on the block. Well, I won.
Conducting is way over my head.
His head is made of stars, but not yet arranged into constellations.
In every deed of mischief he had a heart to resolve, a head to contrive, and a hand to execute.
When I was growing up, my parents were almost involved in various volunteer things. My dad was head of Planned Parenthood. And it was very controversial to be involved with that.
I used to be a Catholic. I left because I object to conversion by concussion. If you don't agree with what they teach, you get clobbered over the head until you do. All that does is change the shape of the head.
My guitars are my umbilical cord. They're directly wired into my head.
It's hard to get in the head of somebody. The closest we can get is through the words they've left behind, either their contemporary correspondence or after-the-fact memoirs.
The cosmos is about the smallest hole that a man can hide his head in.
