Brad Turnbull Quotes & Sayings

Whether the gentleman is capable or not, he is loved all the same; conversely the petty man is loathed all the same. — Xun Zi

He had lived alone most of his life. He was used to places that were empty. He knew the real shelter of a home was inside yourself. — Michael Connelly

If we are in tune with the Spirit, if we are seeking the Lord and His guidance, if our direction is to return to our Father in Heaven, the sweet moments will come. And we will treasure them, for we have become instruments in the hands of God — Bonnie D. Parkin

Consider it this way. The present is a split second, so tiny and trivial as to be immaterial. Everything else, everything real and substantial, is a coral reef of dead split seconds, forming the islands and continents of our reality. Every moment is a brick in the wall of the past, building enormous structures that have identity and meaning, cities we live in. The future is wet shapeless clay, the present is so brief it barely exists, but the past houses and shelters us, gives us a home and a name; and the mortar that binds those bricks, that stops them from sliding apart into a nettle-shrouded ruin, is memory. — K.J. Parker

Eventually, we all end up alone. — Ally Carter

The best initial move for white is 1. P-K4. — Irving Chernev

Since Betty was on the pill or took precautions of her own which Graham did not choose to enquire into, the marital bed was untrammelled by tedious prophylaxis so that what Graham had been expecting to find an onerous and even distasteful duty unexpectedly partook of a freedom and absence of restraint that he found exhilerating. — Alan Bennett

I've been doing a lot of yoga to help with my running, recovery, and mental clarity. It works great for me. — Angie Martinez

Young Bride had a scratch on her neck from the knife, but no other external injuries. It seemed she was killed by the shock the drunks gave her.

After sixty-odd years, reliving the trauma of that fateful night was too much to bear.

There was no funeral procession. She was buried on the unlucky hill on the outskirts of the village.

The crickets, however, remained around her shack and continued to sing until the first snow fell. — Susumu Katsumata