I am never at my best in the early morning, especially a cold morning in the Yorkshire spring with a piercing March wind sweeping down from the fells, finding its way inside my clothing, nipping at my nose and ears.

I love writing about my job because I loved it, and it was a particularly interesting one when I was a young man. It was like holidays with pay to me.

I am never at my best in the early morning, especially a cold morning in the Yorkshire spring with a piercing March wind sweeping down from the fells, finding its way inside my clothing, nipping at my nose and ears.

I will write another book if I feel like it.

If a farmer calls me to a sick animal, he couldn't care less if I were George Bernard Shaw.

They can't find my house now because I keep it very quiet where I live.

If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.

I have felt cats rubbing their faces against mine and touching my cheek with claws carefully sheathed. These things, to me, are expressions of love.

Cats are connoisseurs of comfort.

I could do terrible things to people who dump unwanted animals by the roadside.

For years I used to bore my wife over lunch with stories about funny incidents.

There was no last animal I treated. When young farm lads started to help me over the gate into a field or a pigpen, to make sure the old fellow wouldn't fall, I started to consider retiring.

I hope to make people realize how totally helpless animals are, how dependent on us, trusting as a child must that we will be kind and take care of their needs.

I think it was the fact that I liked it so much that made the writing just come out of me automatically.

I wish people would realize that animals are totally dependent on us, helpless, like children, a trust that is put upon us.

I became a connoisseur of that nasty thud a manuscript makes when it comes through the letter box.

I was helped by having a verbatim memory of what happened years ago, even if I can't remember what happened a couple of days ago.

I was a child when the March on Washington led by Martin Luther King occurred, and I wanted to hear what was going on. I wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to contribute in the best way I possibly could.

I came in on the decline. Phil Elliot was in first, he got his book out, he sold thirteen thousand, I think he got two issues out before I got mine in, this was March '87. He was out in December '86.

Higher education must lead the march back to the fundamentals of human relationships, to the old discovery that is ever new, that man does not live by bread alone.

Our little force will march on tomorrow or the day after.

I think it's a lovely idea, but it will not pass the Congress. I live in a world of realities. The policy of our country is that we can drill our way to independence. I think that's a march to folly.

One swallow does not make a summer, but one skein of geese, cleaving the murk of March thaw, is the Spring.

I would love to see a march on Washington that says 'Save our Social Security'.

We're going to march on Washington with a host of Republicans, Democrats, business leaders, legislators.

For better or worse, I've always tried to march to my own drum and tell it like it is, while preserving some integrity and style. God, I'm fabulous!

The whole order of nature evinces a progressive march towards a higher life.

Every life is march from innocence, through temptation, to virtue or vice.

No administration could stop the tidal wave of immigration that swept over the land; no political party could restrain or control the enterprise of our people, and no reasonable man could desire to check the march of civilization.

The terrorists are fighting freedom with all their cunning and cruelty because freedom is their greatest fear - and they should be afraid, because freedom is on the march.

Would it be possible to stand still on one spot more majestically - while simulating a triumphant march forward - than it is done by the two English Houses of Parliament?

March 11, 2004, now occupies a place in the history of infamy.

The march is a way to get in celebration mode.

In too many instances, the march to globalization has also meant the marginalization of women and girls. And that must change.

We shall meet again before long to march to new triumphs.

The march of invention has clothed mankind with powers of which a century ago the boldest imagination could not have dreamt.

Rations were scarcely issued, and the men about preparing supper, when rumors that the enemy had been encountered that day near Gettysburg absorbed every other interest, and very soon orders came to march forthwith to Gettysburg.

Let them march all they want, as long as they continue to pay their taxes.

In the procession I should feel the crushing feet, the clashing discords, the ruthless hands and stifling breath. I could not hear the rhythm of the march.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

The weather was fine, the valleys literally covered with buffaloe, and everything seemed to promise a safe and speedy movement to the first grove of timber on my route, supposed to be about ten days' march.

Every day that is born into the world comes like a burst of music and rings the whole day through, and you make of it a dance, a dirge, or a life march, as you will.

The March on Washington was a culmination of years of hard work and dedication of many individuals.

The journey and excursions in Mexico which have originated the narrative and remarks contained in this volume were made in the months of March, April, May, and June of 1856, for the most part on horseback.

Arizona's forest fires are not waiting for April, and neither will we. That is why I am pushing for stepped up deployment for Hot Shot wildfire crews in March rather than April, in order to better prepare for the expected fires in northern Arizona.

The march to our duty here, not merely to ourselves, but to our surroundings, must proceed. God wills it.

Even if a minefield or the abyss should lie before me, I will march straight ahead without looking back.

It is what you do from now on that will either move our civilization forward a few tiny steps, or else... begin to march us steadily backward.

I am never at my best in the early morning, especially a cold morning in the Yorkshire spring with a piercing March wind sweeping down from the fells, finding its way inside my clothing, nipping at my nose and ears.