Agradecimentos A Deus Quotes & Sayings

Fuck them all. I ought to have that tattooed on my forehead, for all the times I've thought it. — Jodi Picoult

But Moses again pleaded, Lord, please! Send anyone else. — Anonymous

I consider myself a pretty good extemporaneous speaker. Even though I don't like speaking in front of people, I don't think I'm bad at it. — Anna D. Shapiro

Art is a weapon for me, with which I can strike back. — Gottfried Helnwein

I learned that there's no reason why people decide they like music when they do. — Lana Del Rey

By connecting with the present we turn our attention inward, away from all the chaos and activity, and experience our eternal, unbounded nature. — Deepak Chopra

You're very quiet," Benedict said softly.
"I was just thinking."
"About?"
"About what I'd miss - and what I wouldn't miss - should my life drastically change."
His eyes grew intense. "And do you expect it to drastically change?"
She shook her head and tried to keep the sadness out of her voice when she answered, "No."
His voice grew so quiet it was almost a whisper. "Do you want it to change?"
"Yes," she sighed, before she could stop herself. "Oh, yes."
He took her hands and brought them to his lips, gently kissing each one in turn. "Then we shall begin right now," he vowed. "And tomorrow you shall be transformed."
"Tonight I am transformed," she whispered. "Tomorrow I shall disappear."
Benedict drew her close and dropped the softest, most fleeting of kisses onto her brow. "Then we must pack a lifetime into this very night."
-Benedict & Sophie — Julia Quinn

I moved out to L.A. in July and Hot L Baltimore started in September or October. So I had done a few things. I'd done a Mary [Tyler Moore]. I'd done a Waltons. I hadn't done a Rhoda yet I don't think. — Richard Masur

The slightest living thing answers a deeper need than all the works of man because it is transitory. It has an evanescence of life, or growth, or change: it passes, as we do, from one stage to another, from darkness to darkness, into a distance where we, too, vanish out of sight. A work of art is static; and its value and its weakness lie in being so: but the tuft of grass and the clouds above it belong to our own traveling brotherhood. — Freya Stark