Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Herald's. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Herald's Quotes And Sayings by 93 Authors including Joseph Pulitzer,Dave Barry,Arthur Machen,Edmund Spenser,Ljupka Cvetanova for you to enjoy and share.
A newspaper that is true to its purpose concerns itself not only with the way things are
but with the way they ought to be.
On behalf of the newspaper industry I wish to announce some changes we're making to serve you better. When I say 'serve you better,' I mean 'increase our profits.' We newspapers are very big on profits these days. We're a business, just like any other business, except that we employ English majors.
There are strange things lost and forgotten in obscure corners of the newspaper.
Fresh spring the herald of love's mighty king.
An independent newspaper? It is a newspaper that looks nothing like a newspaper.
Heralds of the gospel have been needed in every generation. This generation is no different.
We come by aurora,
with a heavy and sovereign tread,
with the might of matriarchs to furnish our shoulders,
with the apricity of light to crown our heads
News, news, news - that is what we want. You cannot beat news in a newspaper.
The New York Times, whose editorial department sounds like Cotton Mather rewriting Eleanor Roosevelt ...
Only a newspaper! Quick read, quick lost, Who sums the treasure that it carries hence? Torn, trampled under feet, who counts thy cost, Star-eyed intelligence?
Four hostile newspapers are more to be feared than a thousand bayonets..
A newspaper is an adviser who does not require to be sought, but who comes of his own accord, and talks to you briefly every day of the common wealth, without distracting you from your private affairs.
They send their shout to the stars.
[Lat., Clamorem ad sidera mittunt.]
The best newspapermen I know are those most thrilled by the daily pump of city room excitements; they long fondly for a good murder; they pray that assassinations, wars, catastrophes break on their editions.
Sweet Swan of Avon! What a sight it were
To see thee in our water yet appear.
The Herondales are a rather infamous line, as you probably know. Many of them heroes, some of them traitors, so many of them brash, wild creatures consumed by their passions, whether it be love or hate.
great-grandmother's
Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes! My peace with these, my love with those. The bursting tears my heart declare; Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr.
Do not be taken in by 'insiderisms.' Fledgling columnists, eager to impress readers with their grasp of journalistic jargon, are drawn to such arcane spellings as 'lede.' Where they lede, do not follow.
A good newspaper is never good enough, but a lousy newspaper is a joy forever.
Nowhere else can one find so miscellaneous, so various, an amount of knowledge as is contained in a good newspaper.
A radiant fellowship of the fallen.
Ducks, embrace me as your king!
James Herondale.
You need a name."
I covered the receiver for a moment. "We need a team name."
"Hunters," Raphael said.
"Valiant Knights of the Fur," Dali said.
"Justice Group," Jim said. "Since Justice League is taken."
"Fools." Doolittle shook his head.
"Fools," I said into the receiver.
More than print and ink, a newspaper is a collection of fierce individualists who somehow manage to perform the astounding daily miracle of merging their own personalities under the discipline of the deadline and retain the flavor of their own minds in print.
Big money, big Liberal Party politics and big media are trying to get rid of us, of course, by letting Packer take over Fairfax - a media-only company. But we're hanging in there and doing the best job we can for our readers while we can.
That endless book, the newspaper, is our national glory.
Growing up, 'Newsday' was the paper that was delivered to my doorstep every day.
The family crest of none other than Professor James Moriarty." The very name filled me with fear, and my trousers with something that was certainly not fear.
One of the objects of a newspaper is to understand popular feeling and to give expression to it; another is to arouse among the people certain desirable sentiments; and the third is fearlessly to expose popular defects.
Three centuries after the appearance of Franklin's 'Courant', it no longer requires a dystopic imagination to wonder who will have the dubious distinction of publishing America's last genuine newspaper. Few believe that newspapers in their current printed form will survive.
Upholder, I see its dark side, too
The joke newspaper, it says Canada abandons the monarchy.
Courier 12 is the Type-O blood of fonts - works just as good for a 'N.Y. Times' op-ed as a screenplay or a short story.
We're no longer a newspaper in the morning, we're a 24/7 newspaper organization.
Go my favorite sports team go! Score a goal. Unit. Basket. Go squadron! Defeat the opponents soundly in this ... skirmish.
Newspapers are the Bibles of worldlings.
How diligently they read them!
Here they find their law and profits,
their judges and chronicles,
their epistles and revelations.
I think that a great newspaper is one that puts a real premium on digging to get the story behind the story.
Yield, ye arms, to the toga; to civic praise, ye laurels.
Love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams,
Driving back shadows over louring hills:
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
Nincompoops. (Quincy,
There is no Clan in the forest so true or so brave. I respect and admire the other Clans, but my heart is here, with ThunderClan- the Clan of heroes, the Clan of compassion, the Clan of destiny.
Grab what you can and fight your way to a lifeboat.' Everyone associated with the slow printed word is fast becoming the Great Crested Newt of the culture. First it was the poets, the playwrights, then the novelists. Veteran newspapermen are next.
In these times we fight for ideas and newspapers are our fortress.
Ye mariners of England! That guard our native seas; Whose flag has braved a thousand years, The battle and the breeze!
Isabella entered her dining room in the morning to see two newspapers held by two sets of male hands, one set large and muscular, the other narrower and bonier. The occasional crunch of toast sounded behind the sheets of newsprint. Isabella
Here they come, a tilting! Five hundred mailed and belted knights on bicycles!
The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
A city with one newspaper, or with a morning and an evening paper under one ownership, is like a man with one eye, and often the eye is glass.
News is history shot on the wing. The huntsmen from the Fourth Estate seek to bag only the peacock or the eagle of the swifting day.
Newspapers, of course, need both news and fanfare. A blending of gossip and truth.
And Tomlinson found this in the Times right before I left to come here. Windham
Sports journalism is in the midst of an identity crisis so profound that we no longer know whether we're made up of one word or two.
There were always plenty of newspapers in the house. 'The Times', 'Guardian', 'Daily Telegraph' and 'Daily Mail' were all regular fixtures on the coffee table. I used to enjoy reading 'The Times' editorial pages and the 'Daily Mail' sports pages.
The Lark Ascending";
In the fall of 1989, I was writing 600-word columns at the 'Herald.' My heart always was in long-form narrative writing, though. It's what I cut my teeth on at the 'Boston Phoenix.'
It's arguably the best newspaper in the world.
What was it Catelyn Stark had called them, that night at Bitterbridge? The knights of summer. And now it was autumn and they were falling like leaves ...
I heard a bustling rumor like a fray,
And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
The angels heralded the birth of the Savior, John the Baptist heralded the coming of the Savior, and we herald the gospel of the Savior.
Joys are our wings, sorrows our spurs.
The newspaper is a marvelous medium. It is extraordinarily convenient and cheap. Let's see. This one cost 75 cents. Now that's a little high. I bought it when I was downtown this morning.
Bethlehem star. But we were not
Ladies and dogs," said Jeffrey, "we are about to perform 'Fanfare for the Uncommon Seal.' " "With apologies to Aaron Copland,
I really like the Observer. I think I'd love to have a column with a broad reach that would enable me to do some proper reporting, but keep it on sort of a humorous level. I've always had a very happy experience writing for them.
She's your Herald," Derek said. "That's your color. Blue for humanity."
My what?
He made a big show of moving a few feet to the side.
I looked at him.
"In case your head explodes," he said helpfully.
Who kept the faith and fought the fight; The glory theirs, the duty ours.
Flag of the free heart's hope and home! By angel hands to valour given, Thy stars have lit the welkin dome; And all thy hues were born in heaven.
In the morning, I reach for the sports page.
"We may talk what we please," he cries in his enthusiasm for the oldest of the arts, "of lilies, and lions rampant, and spread eagles, in fields d'or or d'argent; but, if heraldry were guided by reason, a plough in a field arable would be the most noble and ancient arms."
English dragoons
One of the things that will keep The Front Page burning bright as long as newspapers are alive is the myth that newspapermen are breezy and raffish. What other play has for so long fed the self-image of journalists?
It is a newspaper's duty to print the news and raise hell. Wilbur Storey
A less popular name for the Second Person of that delectable newspaper Trinity, the Roomer, the Bedder, and the Mealer.
The men of England,- the men, I mean, of light and leading in England.
Solution: Winchester.
Wherever we find news, excitement, mystery and adventure, there, too, we
find the newspaper reporter. Always on the alert for something new, ready to
risk his very life for a scoop and finding adventure in every corner of the
globe.
I'm a failed newspaper man myself.
I had come looking for a parade, for a military review of champions marching in ranks. Instead I was left with a brawl of ancestors, a herd of dissenters, sometimes marching together but just as often marching away from each other.
I used to be a print reporter.
My real heroes have always been sportswriters.
These are the forgeries of jealousy; And never, since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By paved fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport.
For what made that in glory shine so long But poets' Pens, pluckt from Archangels' wings?
Police blog or entertainment news, it's just good to see your name in print.
Your hunter has a destiny to bear the mark of the gods. Only one true warrior receives such an honer - one who will lay down his own life for another's"
...
"You are the protector.
Jesmyn Ward returns to the world of her first two books, but here in the mode of non-fiction. A clear-eyed witness to the harrowing stories of 'men we reaped,' she quickens the dead and brings them, vividly alive again. An eloquent, grief-steeped account.
Huntleigh's (Yes, I gave them a cheesy couple name in my mind)
Ye say they all have passed away, That noble race and brave; That their light canoes have vanished From off the crested wave; That mid the forests where they roamed There rings no hunter's shout; But their name is on your waters; Ye may not wash it out.
Newspapers always excite curiosity. No one ever lays one down without a feeling of disappointment.
Thy spirit, Independence, let me share! Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye thy steps I follow with my bosom bare, nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.
With what infinite & unwearied expectation and proclamations the cocks usher in every dawn, as if there had never been one before.
Visitors come and go.
Daily I read tea leaves for signs
of the approaching century:
a raven perched on a cross
a sword piercing a cloud
A Victorian Life
The sun shines. Readers read.
Princes of courtesy, merciful, proud and strong.
Hark the herald angels sing, Glory to the new-born king.
Newspapers are the world's mirrors.
It is cheering to find a newspaper of the great influence and circulation of the Journal that tells the facts as they exist, and ignores the suggestions of various kinds that emanate from sources that cannot be described as patriotic or loyal to the flag.
The lifers
who, even seven states away, are the porches
where we land.
Every student, Shadowhunter and mundane alike, knew the name Herondale. It was Jace's last name. It was the name of heroes.
And still the mad magnificent herald Spring assembles beauty from forgetfulness with the wild trump of April:witchery of sound and odour drives the wingless thing man forth in the bright air ...