Basilan Island Quotes & Sayings

Often, we get crushes on others not because we truly love and understand them, but to distract ourselves from our suffering. When we learn to love and understand ourselves and have true compassion for ourselves, then we can truly love and understand another person. — Thich Nhat Hanh

The Book of Job is advice on how to live in terms of the absolute power of nature. Leviathan is advice on how to live in terms of the absolute power of the state. — Donald Phillip Verene

One of the disconcerting things about writing for publication is that you're trying to clear your little parcel of land in a field where Taste is king - and, as we all know, there's no accounting for Taste. — Darin Strauss

What means this glory round our feet, The Magi mused, "more bright than morn!" And voices chanted clear and sweet, "To-day the Prince of Peace is born. — James Russell Lowell

Are you going to make me work for it?"
I nodded and straightened up from the post, bringing our bodies so close I could almost feel him against me. "If I don't believe I'm worth the effort, why the hell would you? — Samantha Young

You have 60 countries in the world with a terrorist problem. That's two-thirds of the world. We have this group in Basilan, which is a small island in the far south of the Philippines, and the island itself has a population of - what? - 300,000. — Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo

We're not spending the night looking for ourselves. — Cath Crowley

Wait.

Is he mad at me? Oh, heck, no.

Because I'm mad at him.

And really, is there anything more annoying than someone who's mad at you when you're the one who's supposed to be mad? No. No, there is not. — Jana Aston

It is the common wonder of all men, how, among so many million faces, there should be none alike. — Thomas Browne

I mean, if we said right now, there's somebody in the next room who's dying, let's all go save their life, you know, everybody would just get up immediately and go get involved in that. — Bill Gates

The massive bronze gates were wide open now, too late. Inside, the cemetery had been turned into a grotesque place gleaming with high-powered searchlights, blue flashlight flares, winking pocket torches. Uniformed men were already swarming about. Red cigarette-embers showed oddly amidst the headstones here and there.
("The Street Of Jungle Death") — Cornell Woolrich