Banyonun Ingilizcesi Quotes & Sayings

I've never played an attorney, and I'd like to do so on a show like 'The Practice' or 'Law & Order.' — Juliet Landau

So put a gerbil on your Christmas list. — Ras Kass

NEVER GIVE UP
No matter what is going on
Never give up
Develop the heart
Too much energy in your country
Is spent developing the mind
Instead of the heart
Be compassionate
Not just to your friends
But to everyone
Be compassionate
Work for peace
In your heart and in the world
Work for peace
And I say again
Never give up
No matter what is going on around you
Never give up — Dalai Lama XIV

Compassion is a coat of fur I find particularly ill-fitting. — Ron Currie Jr.

Well Joe, the truth is that you're not a bad guy, but you have been a bit mysogynistic and homophobic. So your punishment is to make you walk the earth as a homosexual ghost buggering your old mates and aquaitances. — Irvine Welsh

It is a nice sunny day; his bunions have stopped hurting. There is always something to celebrate, in Gerrit's view. — Deborah Moggach

Rastafarianism and reggae music have always kind of resonated with me. Those ideas of redemption, liberation and overcoming oppression through music, weed and community. Fighting evil through love and music, I think it's just a really powerful idea. — Conor Oberst

It is inaccurate to say that I hate everything. I am strongly in favor of common sense, common honesty, and common decency. This makes me forever ineligible for public office. — H.L. Mencken

Foster and polish the warrior spirit while serving in the world; illuminate the path according to your inner light. — Morihei Ueshiba

Who's they?" Ozzie asked. The guy's wild blond hair and Star Trek T-shirt - it read I beat the Kobayashi Maru - shouted of his secure position in the upper echelons of Geekdom as loudly as the three microsized laptops open in front of him. "Official — Julie Ann Walker

At fourteen he runs away. He will not see again the freezing kitchenhouse in the predawn dark. The firewood, the washpots. He wanders west as far as Memphis, a solitary migrant upon that flat and pastoral landscape. Blacks in the fields, lank and stooped, their fingers spiderlike among the bolls of cotton. A shadowed agony in the garden. Against the sun's declining figures moving in the slower dusk across a paper skyline. A lone dark husbandman pursuing mule and harrow down the rainblown bottomland toward night. — Cormac McCarthy