2007-08 Notre Dame Fighting Irish Mens Basketball Team

Famous quotes containing the words notre, dame, fighting, irish, mens, basketball and/or team:

    Se bella piu satore, je notre so catore,
    Je notre qui cavore, je la qu’, la qui, la quai!
    Le spinash or le busho, cigaretto toto bello,
    Ce rakish spagoletto, si la tu, la tu, la tua!
    Senora pelefima, voulez-vous le taximeter,
    La zionta sur le tita, tu le tu le tu le wa!
    Charlie Chaplin (1889–1977)

    Come dame or maid, be not afraid,
    Poor Tom will injure nothing.
    —Unknown. Tom o’ Bedlam’s Song (l. 11–12)

    The happiest excitement in life is to be convinced that one is fighting for all one is worth on behalf of some clearly seen and deeply felt good, and against some greatly scorned evil.
    Ruth Benedict (1887–1948)

    The Irish are often nervous about having the appropriate face for the occasion. They have to be happy at weddings, which is a strain, so they get depressed; they have to be sad at funerals, which is easy, so they get happy.
    Peggy Noonan (b. 1950)

    Is it that mens frayle eyes, which gaze too bold,
    She may entangle in that golden snare:
    Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599)

    Perhaps basketball and poetry have just a few things in common, but the most important is the possibility of transcendence. The opposite is labor. In writing, every writer knows when he or she is laboring to achieve an effect. You want to get from here to there, but find yourself willing it, forcing it. The equivalent in basketball is aiming your shot, a kind of strained and usually ineffective purposefulness. What you want is to be in some kind of flow, each next moment a discovery.
    Stephen Dunn (b. 1939)

    Romeo. I dreamt a dream tonight.
    Mercutio. And so did I.
    Romeo. Well, what was yours?
    Mercutio. That dreamers often lie.
    Romeo. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
    Mercutio. O then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
    She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes
    In shape no bigger than an agate stone
    On the forefinger of an alderman,
    Drawn with a team of little atomi
    Over men’s noses as they lie asleep.
    William Shakespeare (1564–1616)