Al Mansur Grande Quotes & Sayings

And another regrettable thing about death is the ceasing of your own brand of magic, which took a whole life to develop and market - the quips, the witticisms, the slant adjusted to a few, those loved ones nearest the lip of the stage . . . - JOHN UPDIKE, "Perfection Wasted — Carole Radziwill

Tis well to borrow from the good and the great; 'Tis wise to learn: 'tis God-like to create! — John Godfrey Saxe

Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them? — George Carlin

People you meet on your journey may not give you direct answers, but listen and observe. Everyone on your path presents a lesson for you. — Sheila Burke

Remember this: You are the expert of your body. — Sarah Hackley

And call me a pig, but isn't it brilliantly refreshing how early the Dutch eat dinner? When they're still laying out the cutlery in achingly hip Barcelona, they're hanging the Closed sign on the restaurant doors of old Amsterdam. — Julie Burchill

I cannot control what goes on in another lane and this is how I focus on the Games. There is no point in being nervous of other swimmers. It's just about focusing on yourself and what you need to do in order to perform at your best. — Cameron Van Der Burgh

I like to see love stories: romantic comedy or romantic drama. — Pia Zadora

I revise my suicide plan to slow death by morphling. I will become a yellow-skinned bag of bones, with enormous eyes. I'm a couple of days into the plan, making good progress, when something unexpected happens. I begin to sing. At the window, in the shower, in my sleep. Hour after hour of ballads, love songs, mountain airs. All the songs my father taught me before he died, for certainly there has been very little music in my life since. What's amazing is how clearly I remember them. The tunes, the lyrics. My voice, at first rough and breaking on the high notes, warms up into something splendid. A voice that would make the mockingjays fall silent and then tumble over themselves to join in. Days pass, weeks. I watch the snows fall on the ledge outside my window. And in all that time, mine is the only voice I hear. What — Suzanne Collins

That was my brother: it was like he was his own species, one that had sneaked a couple thousand extra years in while evolution was looking the other way. — Kelly Braffet