Bookcase With Doors Quotes & Sayings

Ten people who speak make more noise than ten thousand who are silent. — Napoleon Bonaparte

Lyotard addresses... in Postmodern Fables... [that] ideas of difference, alterity and multiculturalism have become nothing more than streams of cultural capital, streams which themselves fashion, and are fashioned by, the demands of the global market. Hence, the following irony: 'What cultural capitalism has found is the marketplace of singularities'. The result of this discovery, which even reduces the 'postmodern' celebration of difference or otherness to a marketable strategy, is that ideas are stripped of their intrinsic value (value-rationality) and are judged by their value as commodities. This leads to the production of thought that is itself devoid of difference, for streams of cultural capital 'must all go in the right direction' and 'must converge'. Global capitalism, while appearing to affirm the potentiality of cultural differentiation, in fact subordinates difference and alterity to an instrumental logic of exchange, performance and control. — Nicholas Gane

After we put my son to bed, my husband and I curl up and watch a movie or TV. That's when I finally put up my feet and have my glass of wine and a brownie. — Kara Goucher

Sometimes I think the only thing worth saying is I love you. — Sylvia Boorstein

Eyes glazed over as the great rice-wine parties in the highlands were recalled, parties that are no longer held since the arrival of the mission. Bario has become a good, clean, upstanding, sober, hard-working Christian community. What a loss for these fun-loving and generous people. — Eric Hansen

Ernest Hemingway talked about how writing is opening up a vein and bleeding onto the page. You prepared to do that? — Craig Lancaster

I'm sorry about the floor," she whispered. "I hope you'll be able to fall asleep." "Oh, I won't be able to sleep, and it won't be because of the floor." Heat splashed over her, sending a fresh flush over her skin. Her mind scrambled to find an appropriate answer, but she could think of nothing except the softness of his hands. "Good night, Priscilla," he whispered. — Jody Hedlund