Blacksmithing Tools Quotes & Sayings

He who doesn't fear his own imagination ... is not worthy to envision. — Lionel Suggs

The muscles in his arms and back trembled as he pushed in as deep as he could go, until all of him was buried inside her. His head sagged and a deep, primitive snarl ripped free. Sparks of light exploded behind her tightly closed lids. His hands burrowed into her hair, holding her head still while he kissed her hard and deep and wild. Then he began to move. Hard, steady strokes that ignited every nerve ending in her body. — Kaylea Cross

I raise money the old fashioned way, I go out and tell people what I think. And I say to them, "If you hire me, I'm a CEO, and I'll listen to you. But at the end of the day, I'm going to make the decision, something I've done throughout my whole career with, frankly, great success." — Rick Santorum

It's important to practice good hygiene,
At least if you wanna run with my team. — Del Tha Funkee Homosapien

Our minds, with their store of madness, had diverged. O gruesome life, ========== On the Road (Kerouac, Jack) — Anonymous

The woman and the genius do not work. Up to now, woman has been mankind's supreme luxury. In all those moments when we do our best, we do not work. Work is merely a means to these moments. — Friedrich Nietzsche

Like flowers and plants, we too need ground under our feet, warmth and sunshine and food for our spirit, protective boundaries, tending and care, freedom to grow unencumbered and without limitation, and complete support from the Universe to become our greatest possible self. — Sonia Choquette

Zafar argues that the greatest influence on a writer may be on her psychic dispositions as a writer. Reading Philip Roth, writes Zafar, might clear the way of inhibitions that held you back from writing about reckless desire, the temptations of power, and the immanence of rage, or reading Naipaul might convince you to seize the ego that so wants to be loved, drag it outside, put it up against a wall, and shoot it. — Zia Haider Rahman

One friend dies and we remain indifferent; another dies, perhaps less intimate, and we see ourselves as dead, and weep, mourn, tear our hair or find ourselves caught up in the madness of the wake, competing with others as to who was closest, now suffers most. — Fay Weldon