We would like to see the virtual elimination of the transmission of [HIV] from mother to child by 2015. ... We believe it can be achieved with political will.
Annie LennoxRead
I have a calling in my soul, if you like, to try to make my life in some way worthwhile. What is the value of my existence?
Interpretation
This quote expresses a deep desire for purpose and the quest for meaningful existence.
Annie Lennox reflects on the intrinsic desire of individuals to seek purpose in their lives. She questions the value of existence, suggesting that every person has a unique calling that drives them to contribute positively to the world, indicating that finding one's worth is often tied to the impact one has on others.
In practice
In a motivational speech about finding one's true purpose in life.
We would like to see the virtual elimination of the transmission of [HIV] from mother to child by 2015. ... We believe it can be achieved with political will.
I sang a lot as a little girl and entered competitions. I loved singing in choirs, but it was as I got older that I really found my voice.
I've thought about what is an alternative word to feminism. There isn't one. It's a perfectly good word. And it can't be changed.
Anita Roddick was amazing. Her presence in a room was full of light, and everything she worked to achieve still resonates now.
Having children, they're not your property. They need to figure out their own views. I think my daughters have a pretty healthy self-awareness, but I can't speak on their behalf.
I have different hats; I'm a mother, I'm a woman, I'm a human being, I'm an artist and hopefully I'm an advocate. All of those plates are things I spin all the time.
I remember the first time I saw him. He was 13 and just floated over the ground like a cockier spaniel chasing a piece of silver paper in the wind.
The death of something living is the price of our own survival, and we pay it again and again. We have no choice. It is the one solemn promise every life on earth is born and bound to keep.
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply I may forget.
It was the kind of town that made you feel like Humphrey Bogart: you came in on a bumpy little plane, and, for some mysterious reason, got a private room with a balcony overlooking the town and the harbor; then you sat there and drank until something happened.
That familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.
It's not sipping wine. It's a mourning wine. You drain it. Like this.
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