Cynthia Quotes

I don't mean to change the subject or anything, but have you tried concealer on that zit?" Cynthia Lotte - Hot Six

It's not a problem. There are people out there with much worse problems than mine."-Cynthia "Doesn't make yours any more fun to bear."-Liza "No. But it does help with the self-pity."- Cynthia

John had Julian and I had Zak so we'd try to do the fatherly things. We'd try to do manly things too; we'd go to the pub and bring Maureen and Cynthia a Babycham or something- a real Liverpool attitude

We would normally play it to Cynthia or whoever was around

Nicolette, Kendalle, and Alexandra are my children. Their mother, Cynthia Beck, and I, love them very much.

Cynthia's lyrics always expressed the feelings people felt but they couldn't express themselves.

John and I would go and have a couple of quiet beers, just to sit down and chew the fat. And he'd talk about Cynthia and how much he missed her

Your husband this morning! Mine tonight! What do you take him for?' 'A man' smiled Cynthia. 'And therefore, if you won't let me call him changeable, I'll coin a word and call him consolable.

Choose a firm cloud before it fall, and in it Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute.

You have certain writing tools but generally creating something from nothing makes one quite mad and Cynthia and I are quite mad you know.

Meanwhile, Cynthia and I are busy fixing up a real old house that we just bought in Hollywood. With two children now, we just couldn't live in our small rented home any longer.

John Lennon brought his wife Cynthia, a nice blonde girl and she was horribly put out of sight and stayed home. I know it broke John's heart John wasn't happy about it and she was-- because we spoke on the plane. I photographed her and them on the plane coming over. And you know photographs don't lie. They tried putting on a black wig on her for a couple of days and that was the sad part that kept quiet because they wanted them to be like, you know, fresh- which they were

When Cynthia smiles, said young Bingo, the skies are blue; the world takes on a roseate hue; birds in the garden trill and sing, and Joy is king of everything, when Cynthia smiles. He coughed, changing gears. When Cynthia frowns - What the devil are you talking about?I'm reading you my poem. The one I wrote to Cynthia last night. I'll go on, shall I?No!No?No. I haven't had my tea.

Cynthia came in quietly and set a cup of tea before him. He kissed her hand, inexpressibly grateful, and she went back into the kitchen. When we view the little things with thanksgiving, even they become big things.

It was daylight and I drove everyone home - I was driving a Mini with John and Cynthia and Pattie in it. I seem to remember we were doing eighteen miles an hour and I was really concentrating - because some of the time I just felt normal and then, before I knew where I was, it was all crazy again. Anyway, we got home safe and sound, and somewhere down the line John and Cynthia got home. I went to bed and lay there for, like, three years.

I met Cynthia when I was 12, proposed at 16, became engaged at 17, married her at 19 and we had a baby when I was 20. If extra work could pay for a lot of diapers, that was for me.

Great pals we've always been. In fact there was a time when I had an idea I was in love with Cynthia. However, it blew over. A dashed pretty and lively and attractive girl, mind you, but full of ideals and all that. I may be wronging her, but I have an idea that she's the sort of girl who would want a fellow to carve out a career and what not. I know I've heard her speak favourably of Napoleon. So what with one thing and another the jolly old frenzy sort of petered out, and now we're just pals. I think she's a topper, and she thinks me next door to a looney, so everything's nice and matey.

The art school party in Liverpool, in a flat in the students' accomdation, was the first all night party I ever went to...I puked up next morning. Cynthia was there, and I remember saying drunkenly to her 'I wish I had a nice girl like you'

After a certain number of years, our faces become our biographies.