Cacau Nibs Quotes & Sayings

A crimson fire that vanquishes the stars;A pungent odor from the dusty sage;A sudden stirring of the huddled herds;A breaking of the distant table-landsThrough purple mists ascending, and the flareOf water ditches silver in the light;A swift, bright lance hurled low across the world;A sudden sickness for the hills of home. — Willa Cather

It was at times like this when I wished people still had old school phones because, more than anything, I wanted to slam mine down. — Autumn Doughton

If the only tool we use to analyse what's valuable is a price tag, then those things that don't have price tags begin to look like they have no value. — Al Gore

I'm always going to be someone that people enjoy watching. — Dane Cook

The wildest ride in modern crime novel exoticum. A novel so steeped in milieu that it feels as if you've blasted to mars in the grip of a demon who won't let you go. Read this book, savor the language-it's the last-and the most compelling word in thrillers. — James Ellroy

The hardest working person in showbusiness has never been or ever will be a 'famous person'. — Daniel Tosh

Surely 't is better, when summer is over To die when all fair things are fading away. — Thomas Haynes Bayly

I want to hope, to dream, to have faith again, but the soulless weight of reality keeps crushing me down. — Anonymous

I am not a fan of having too much gear. — Roger Deakins

I'd say I learned a lot. It's all about whether or not I can apply it. — Stephen Strasburg

I have a lot of songs, and I'd love to do some more recording with the band. — Mick Jagger

I would always wait to take you home. — David Levithan

Humility is the greatest shaper of souls and crafter of character, for it wipes away all the grandiose things that we spend so much of our lives pretending to be, so that we can spend all of our lives being the exceptional person that we were actually created to be. — Craig D. Lounsbrough

My painting does not come from the easel. — Jackson Pollock

What do you do there, moon, in the sky? Tell me what you do, silent moon. When evening comes you rise and go contemplating wastelands; then you set. — Giacomo Leopardi