Bicol Sweet Quotes & Sayings

My unworldliness, even at 21, was abnormal. Not only had I never smoked tobacco nor touched alcohol of any description, but I had never yet set foot inside a theatre, or gone to a race course I had never seen, nor held a billiard cue, nor touched a card. — Algernon Blackwood

The first acting I ever did was an Italian commercial. Once I did that, I said, 'this acting thing is awesome.' — Laura Prepon

I'm a hardcore libertarian - I want everything legal - but I also believe that you have the right to free association. — Penn Jillette

No one can be right all the time, but it helps to be right most of the time. — Robert Half

Don't let life discourage you; everyone who got where he is had to begin where he was. — Richard L. Evans

Overlooking an offence is a gift of love — Lailah Gifty Akita

Ok," he says. "First lesson."
Noah broadens his stance, taking his place firmly on the embassy side of the threshold. "in the United States," he says. Then, with both feet, he leaps on to the sidewalk. "Out of the United States." Quickly, he jumps back toward me. "In the United States." Another jump across the threshold. "Out of the United States. In. Out. In
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"Is this the part where I hit you? — Ally Carter

memory is the only way home. — Terry Tempest Williams

No, I wouldn't direct a movie, no. I couldn't. I don't have the patience for it, I don't have the people skills. You have to be clever. I'm not really clever in that kind of way. And you have to be able to manipulate people, but at the same time allow them to feel like they are manipulating you, to get the kind of movie that you want. — Nick Cave

I believe one can gauge a book's impact only after about 10 years. — Mohsin Hamid

We tend to think of age only in time, but I don't think it has much to do with time at all; there's a whole load of other things. I've met 16-year-olds who are old and 90-year-olds who are young. — Roger Daltrey

I let his rose wither in a vase on my desk, a vase painfully empty of flowers since the long-ago time when, on my birthday, Mario would give me a cattleya, in imitation of Swann. In the evening the flower was already black and bent on its stem. I threw it in the trash. — Elena Ferrante

He blinked in the gloom. He was wearing heavy black trousers and a waistcoat over a stiff white shirt. His exoself, having chosen an obsession which would have been meaningless in a world of advanced computers, had dressed him for the part of a Victorian naturalist.
The drawers, he knew, were full of beetles. Hundreds of thousands of beetles. He was free, now, to do nothing with his time but study them, sketch them, annotate them, classify them: specimen by specimen, species by species, decade after decade. The prospect was so blissful that he almost keeled over with joy. — Greg Egan