Bostel Quotes & Sayings

A coincidence is nothing more than God remaining anonymous. — Concetta Bertoldi

I think people hear the warmth in my voice and the friendliness, and they think: 'Oh, she must be a very nice person'. — Natalie Cole

I'm a man. I lived it and I'm not afraid to die but when I die I'm going to paradise and I'm not worried. — Mike Tyson

My pillow is as good as any ocean
to drown in the nightmare of myself.
I swam all the way here from the moon. — Casey Renee Kiser

Nature's my muse and it's been my passion. — Frans Lanting

Joy is the settled assurance that God is in control of all the details of my life, the quiet confidence that ultimately everything is going to be all right, and the determined choice to praise God in all things. — Kay Warren

He was really trying to be my friend, without all the emotional baggage we both carried - mine still with me, but carefully folded in vacuum bags so they'd occupy as little room as possible and his, hangin on his shoulders like lead armor, making him slouch sometimes. And yet, as pinned down as he was, he was the one comforting me, supporting not only his weight but mine, too. It wasn't fair. — Diana T. Scott

You can tell the nature of the man by the words he chooses. — Edwin Louis Cole

So it's fate then?" I asked with him so close my lips brushed the line of his jaw with each word, "Us being together?"
"Absolutely," Calvin said with a low growl. Then he lifted my chin, tilting my head back, and kissed me deeply.
Who was I to argue with Fate? — E.J. Stevens

Very possible! Possible, indeed. Maybe even probable, which, as you know if you study your arithmetic,can happen more often than possible. In other words, probable is more possible than possible. - Bubo — Kathryn Lasky

The more we know, the better we realize that our knowledge is a little island in the midst of an ocean of ignorance. — Theodosius Dobzhansky

One life passed, another began, then that passed and a third began, and there's still no end. All the ends are cut off as if with a pair of scissors. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky