Benefortin Quotes & Sayings

In certain books - some way in the first few paragraphs you know that you have met a brother. — Robert Henri

Rap's conscious response to the poverty and oppression of U.S. blacks is like some hideous parody of sixties black pride. — David Foster Wallace

By what psychoanalyst friends tell me, in the field of the emotional subconscious, the emotional resistances to be overcome are no longer the ones most people felt in Freud's [..] day. The moralizing respectability and the fear of sex evidenced in Freud's day no longer exist. I am told that today's resistances come in the form of summary, seemingly pitiless and unrelenting "wild" self-analyses offered up by those who claim to have understood "everything" about themselves. — Massimo Piattelli Palmarini

True words are not pleasing. Pleasing words are not true. — Laozi

Everybody at a university was to her a professor, unless they were students of course, and therefore even worse. — Diana Wynne Jones

Once more I realized to what an extent earthly happiness is made to the measure of man. It is not a rare bird which we must pursue at one moment in heaven, at the next in our minds. Happiness is a domestic bird found in our own courtyards. — Nikos Kazantzakis

It's not just the books Alba craves, it's standing inside a place that houses millions of them. Libraries are Alba's churches, and the university library, containing one edition of every book ever published in England, is her cathedral. — Menna Van Praag

My Heart Is Perfect Bcoz U R Inside . — Arbaaz Ali

They tell you in Washington that if you want a friend, get a dog. That is not true. Get a family. This is a hard place to be. — Merrick Garland

I am NOT fighting for Muslims, believe me, when I demand Pakistan. — Muhammad Ali Jinnah

Little by little, even with other cares, the slowly but surely working poison of the garden-mania begins to stir in my long-sluggish veins. — Henry James

What scrunched under our overshoes as we trudged through the stubble of the grainfield was the nasty mix of moistureless snow and windblown dirt that we called snirt. — Ivan Doig

FRANCESCA
You came in out of the night
And there were flowers in your hands,
Now you will come out of a confusion of people,
Out of a turmoil of speech about you.
I who have seen you amid the primal things
Was angry when they spoke your name
In ordinary places.
I would that the cool waves might flow over my mind,
And that the world should dry as a dead leaf,
Or as a dandelion seed-pod and be swept away,
So that I might find you again,
Alone. — Ezra Pound