Bianchetti Bracco Quotes & Sayings

Journalism is a flawed profession, but it has a self-correcting mechanism. The rule of journalism is: talk to everybody. — Lawrence Wright

If it weren't my life, I wouldn't have believed it. — Jonathan Safran Foer

It is very rare, indeed, for men to be wrong in their feelings concerning public misconduct; as rare to be right in their speculations upon the cause of it. I have constantly observed that the generality of people are fifty years, at least, behind in their politics. — Edmund Burke

You can't get a guarantee from everyone who appears in personal photographs that they will forever remain warm presences in one's life or sweet memories. — Emily Yoffe

Creativity suffers under great scrutiny from ourselves or others. — SARK

I don't do well with technology. — The Rev

go.
enjoy.
leave.
it was all about you, anyway. — Nayyirah Waheed

Even when we allow our imaginations to run wild on the joys of heaven, we find that our minds are incapable of conceiving what it will be like. — Billy Graham

When a person's primary objective is to maximize material pleasures while minimizing discomforts, then life becomes a constant process of "pushing" (trying to push away from discomforts) and "grabbing" (trying to acquire or hold on to that which gives pleasure). With the loss of inner balance that accompanies a habitual "pushing and grabbing" approach to life, a deeper pain ensues-that of becoming aware of the ultimate unsatisfactoriness of the pleasure-seeking/pain-avoiding process itself. — Duane Elgin

Closing one's ears to the complaints of partisans would also entail closing one's mind to the substance of their arguments. — Daniel Okrent

When everything is at risk, good judgment, not haste, makes the difference between life and death. Panic is the enemy. — Greg Iles

Some odd things were found; among other things the skeleton of an ourang-outang which disappeared from the Jardin des Plantes in 1800, a disappearance probably connected with the famous and incontestable appearance of the devil in the Rue des Bernardins in the last year of the eighteenth century. The poor devil finally drowned himself in the sewer. — Victor Hugo