Abusadorsito Quotes & Sayings

For many years, I thought a poem was a whisper overheard, not an aria heard. — Rita Dove

I'm trying to remain unfamous. — Anwar Robinson

When you're comfortable and secure, it's not enough. The mind doesn't stop there because it has to continue to focus itself as this body, so it moves to pleasure. And pleasure really is a non-existent thing. When we're experiencing pleasure, we're trying to hold onto it as it leaves, so it really isn't pleasure. Pleasure is pain because we're grasping. — Byron Katie

While you're pregnant, I suggest that you eat like you regularly do. Yes you can eat a little more, but eat healthier for as long as you can. — Constance Marie

My father used to always say to me that, you know, if a guy goes out to steal a loaf of bread to feed his family, they'll give him 10 years, but a guy can do white-collar crime and steal the money of thousands and he'll get probation and a slap on the wrist. — Jesse Ventura

You cannot give anything to a magnanimous person. After you have served him, he at once puts you in debt by his magnanimity. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

You never cared that I was your sister before."
"Didn't I?" His black eyes flicked up and down her. "Our father's dead," he said. "There are no other relatives. You and I, we are the last. The last of the Morgensterns. You are the only one left whose blood runs in my veins, too. You are my last chance. — Cassandra Clare

America's last pioneers, urban nomads in search of wide open interior spaces — Cathleen McGuigan

In a sense, as we are creative beings, our lives become our work of art. — Julia Cameron

I notice it says on your tray, 'Dibbler Enterprises, Est,'" said Vimes. "Shouldn't it say when you were established? — Terry Pratchett

I had never felt like that before, as if there were a sort of curse, a merciless force in the light that shone on a world where life is borken and lost, where each new day takes something from the day that precedes it, where suffering is inmovable ... — Jean-Marie G. Le Clezio

Ransom was by now thoroughly frightened - not with the prosaic fright that a man suffers in a war, but with a heady, bounding kind of fear that was hardly distinguishable from his general excitement: he was poised on a sort of emotional watershed from which, he felt, he might at any moment pass either into delirious terror or into an ecstasy of joy. — C.S. Lewis