Brendles Store Quotes & Sayings

It was one of my dreams as a child, growing up in my little village with my cousins. We used to walk together, and I used to say, when you look at the world map, 'This town is there, that town is there, that river is there.' I used to say, 'One day, I'm going to travel these places.' — Jimmy Cliff

Before fighting for truth, find the truth. — Kunal Narayan Uniyal

Well, let's go! And we go like this now, hand in hand." "And eternally so, all our lives hand in hand! Hurrah for Karamazov!" Kolya cried once more ecstatically, and once more all the boys joined in his exclamation. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I'm still exploring in a lot of ways. I don't know myself completely. — Leonardo DiCaprio

Think of your attacks as the ocean during a storm. Waves come and crash. They beat on the sand over and over. Slamming into anything on its way. But then, the storm retreats. The water is calm and the waves slowly come and go. Every attack rises and falls. You either have to hold on," he squeezes my shoulders, "or stop it before the storm comes. — Lindsay Paige

When weak or injured always continue training as you should always be able to adapt in any condition. — Masaaki Hatsumi

Early on, Zinkoff's mother impressed upon her son the etiquette of throwing up: That is, do not throw up at random, but throw up into something, preferably a toilet or bucket. Since toilets or buckets are not always handy, Zinkoff has learned to reach for the nearest container. Thus, at one time or another he has thrown up into soup bowls, flowerpots, wastebaskets, trash bins, shopping bags, winter boots, kitchen sinks and, once, a clown's hat. But never his father's mailbag. — Jerry Spinelli

There's a category for me. I like to be referred to as a good singer of good songs in good taste. — Sarah Vaughan

The phantasmogoric philosophy, ineluctable bride of mediocrity. — Aporva Kala

Of the two thousand original copies printed of The History of Love, some were bought and read, many were bought and not read, some were given as gifts, some sat fading in bookstore windows serving as landing docks for flies, some were marked up with pencil, and a good many were shredded to pulp along with other unread or unwanted books, their sentences parsed and minced in the machine's spinning blades. — Nicole Krauss

If only parents would listen! If only they would let us talk instead of forever and eternally and continuously harping and preaching and nagging and correcting and yacking, yacking, yacking! But they won't listen! They simply won't or can't or don't want to listen, and we kids keep winding up back in the same old frustrating, lost, lonely corner with no one to relate to either verbally or physically. — Anonymous