Adeptes Synonyme Quotes & Sayings

She always felt a little uneasy around women who were more sophisticated than she was. — Chelsea Cain

I passed a typing test and became a member of the staff of Rear Adm. Newton. — Jack Adams

The immigrant artist shares with all other artists the desire to interpret and possibly remake his or her own world. So though we may not be creating as dangerously as our forebears - though we are not risking torture, beatings, execution, though exile does not threaten us into perpetual silence - still, while we are at work bodies are littering the streets somewhere. People are buried under rubble somewhere. Mass graves are being dug somewhere. Survivors are living in makeshift tent cities and refugee camps somewhere, shielding their heads from the rain, closing their eyes, covering their ears, to shut out the sounds of military "aid" helicopters. And still, many are reading, and writing, quietly, quietly. — Edwidge Danticat

Kiernan and baseball - it's like waving a carrot in front of a mule. Put tickets to a ballgame in front of Kiernan's face and he'll follow you pretty much wherever you want to go. After that first game we attended in 1905, it didn't take much for me to convince him to see another game in 1912, and then one in 1924, and so on. — Rysa Walker

[It is not] the poet's business to use verse as an advanced form of rhetoric, nor to give to political statements the aura of eternal truth. — George Oppen

It is the artists who make the true value of the world, though at times they may have to starve to do it. They are like earthworms, turning up the soil so things can grow, eating dirt so that the rest of us may eat green shoots. — Erica Jong

We are not just a skin-encapsulated ego, a soul encased in flesh. We are each other and we are the world. — Charles Eisenstein

In a free society we're supposed to know the truth.. In a society where truth becomes treason, then we're in big trouble. And now, people who are revealing the truth are getting into trouble for it.. This is media, isn't it? I mean, why don't we prosecute The New York Times or anybody that releases this? — Ron Paul

I sit down next to him, and he pulls me to his side. Then he lies down so that I'm draped across him. My hip is tucked between him and the back of the couch. "I don't want to go home yet," he says quietly. He pulls my head down to his chest, and I press my face against it. His hand settles on the back of my head, and he starts to stroke down the length of my hair. "Then don't go," I say quietly. He doesn't. He just threads his fingers into my hair and drags them down my back, over and over, until my eyelids grow heavy and I fall asleep on his chest. I wake up the next morning tucked into my own bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. I sit up and look around. Beside me on the pillow is a note. I open it up and read. Are you in love with me yet? — Tammy Falkner