Btpa Quotes & Sayings

Mom's going to love you," I assure her. "You'll see."

*

Mom hates her.

Or at least, she's doing a good job of hiding her love. — Elle Kennedy

What has the women's movement learned from Geraldine Ferraro's candidacy for vice president? Never get married. — Gloria Steinem

I was working as a journalist for an Israeli paper in Paris, and my salary at the highest was fifty dollars a month. At the end of the month I always had palpitations; I didn't know how to pay my rent. Even after the war, I was often hungry. But that's part of the romantic condition of a student. To be a student in Paris and not be hungry is wrong. — Elie Wiesel

We live in a very chaotic world that sometimes we - it just seems like a mess. One of the reasons why we listen to music, and to great classical music in particular, is that everything is in an order and in a place and has a beauty that you see in nature, that you see and that people look for when they look for God. — Joshua Bell

I never do anything out of my comfort zone. — Danica Patrick

Blushes are the rainbow of modesty. — Bill Vaughan

Can't living with the bill means it won't become law. — George W. Bush

People who are bad at time management. If you say you're going to be somewhere at a certain time, be there! — Mike Holloway

You need to be able to express your resentment and sense of loss in a way that doesn't damage your partner. — Mallory Ortberg

Take heed, and beware of all covetousness; for a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions (Luke 12:15). — Richard J. Foster

A new upper class that makes decisions affecting the lives of everyone else but increasingly doesn't know much about how everybody else lives is vulnerable to making mistakes. How vulnerable are you? — Charles Murray

Our very awareness is the window upon which reality presents itself. — Frederick Lenz

That night she heard the branches tapping against the house and the window frames rattle. She sat alone and thought of the geese, she could hear them out there. It had gotten cold. The wind was blowing their feathers. They lived a long time, ten or fifteen years, they said. The one they had seen on the lawn might still be alive, settled back into the fields with the others, in from the ocean where they went to be safe, the survivors of bloody ambushes. Somewhere in the wet grass, she imagined, lay one of them, dark sodden breast, graceful neck still extended, great wings striving to beat, bloody sounds coming from the holes in its beak. She went around and turned on the lights. The rain was coming down, the sea was crashing, a comrade lay dead in the whirling darkness. — James Salter