Bunny Catchphrase Quotes & Sayings

There are two classes of human beings in this world: one class seem made to give love, and the other to take it. — Harriet Beecher Stowe

Now I'm this far up the ladder and I've got so much farther to go with what I want to achieve with it. — Karl Urban

Come on. We gotta let this baby go and get some pictures. — M. Leighton

Looked again she found him to the back, under the shade of the high — George R R Martin

You can take no credit for beauty at sixteen. But if you are beautiful at sixty, it will be your soul's own doing. — Marie Stopes

Man habitually sacrifices his life to his purse, but he sacrifices his purse to his vanity. — Miguel De Unamuno

I can't have composite characters. I can't attribute dialogue to someone based simply on my memory and not based on notes taken at the time that the words were spoken. — Akhil Sharma

In America and Europe, the nomadism is of trade and curiosity. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

There was one where Gomez was on a Trapeze hanging by the legs upside down. I remember how much the backs of my knees would hurt until I got used to it. It was hard. — John Astin

Remember: if you can see the Empire State Building,
The Empire State Building can see you. — Robert Polito

I stood upon a chair when I was left alone, and looked into the glass to see how red my eyes were, and how sorrowful my face. I considered, after some hours were gone, if my tears were really hard to flow now, as they seemed to be, what, in connection with my loss, it would affect me most to think of when I drew near home - for I was going home to the funeral. I am sensible of having felt that a dignity attached to me among the rest of the boys, and that I was important in my affliction. If ever child were stricken with sincere grief, I was. But I remember that this importance was a kind of satisfaction to me, when I walked in the playground that afternoon while the boys were in school. When I saw them glancing at me out of the windows, as they went up to their classes, I felt distinguished, and looked more melancholy, and walked slower. — Charles Dickens

A huge fireplace and Dutch oven of fieldstone filled one wall. Over them hung a long muzzle-loading rifle, powder horn, and bullet pouch. On the mantel were candle molds, a coffee mill, an iron and trivet, and a rusty kettle. An iron cauldron, big enough to boil a missionary in, swung at the end of a long arm in the fireplace, and below it, like so many black offspring, were a cluster of small pots. A wooden butter churn held the door open, and clusters of Indian corn hung from the molding at aesthetic intervals. A colonial scythe stood in one corner, and two Boston rockers on a hooked rug faced the cold fireplace, where the unwatched pot never boiled. Paul — Kurt Vonnegut Jr.