Castagnetti Riccardo Quotes & Sayings

Not to love is in love an infallible means of being loved. — Francois De La Rochefoucauld

The first two crusades brought the flower of European chivalry to Constantinople and restored that spiritual union between Eastern and Western Christendom that had been interrupted by the great schism of the Greek and Roman Churches. — Joseph Jacobs

It is because so much happens. Too much happens. That's it. Man performs, engenders, so much more than he can or should have to bear. That's how he finds that he can bear anything. That's it. That's what is so terrible. That he can bear anything, anything. — William Faulkner

When I go to a country, I go to flea markets, antique stores. I am always looking for something. — Ursula Andress

To me, the word wisdom means ancient knowledge.
It's the kind of knowledge you not only see but feel when you look into the eyes of an elephant or stop for a moment to marvel at the deep wrinkles on its skin, both of which I believe contain the truths learned from each intentional step their feet and those of their ancestors have placed upon the earth. — Molly Friedenfeld

I spent the whole first year of my career just on my legs. If you have good legs under you, then you can punch. Anybody can stand and throw their hands and look like an idiot. If you actually want to learn how to punch, you have to work on being balanced on your legs and feeling your legs under you. Feel the ground. — Ronda Rousey

Love is the ultimate creator. — Molly Friedenfeld

And why was I not told of this almost event that might have happened, when it happened, but didn't?"

"Did you even understand what you just said? — Kayla Howarth

Parts of you die with every decision you have to make. It becomes about making decisions between bad decisions and worse decisions. — Elizabeth Rodriguez

There is nothing about MYSELF that I wouldn't reveal or write about. I don't care how horrendous or ridiculous I may appear in person or in print. There is great freedom in not caring what other people think. — Augusten Burroughs

JULY 20. I've just walked into the opera house. I have no programme. Strange new players are premiering a piece by a flamboyant new composer. Front and centre, three, maybe four, whales begin - a swelling string section - discordant, irresolute harmonies fill the concert hall. Then two more whales, stage right, come in, playing eight octave clarinets, counterpointing the string section. And then they, too, are counterpointed by occasional glissando slurs and passages played pizzicato by whales at the rear of the stage. But suddenly, a programme change: The orchestra members switch clothes and pull new instruments from their cases. The French horn players begin wailing on shiny, sleazy saxophones. The trumpeters spit rapid-fire bursts into an underwater echo chamber - the deep, rocky corridor of Johnstone Strait. — Erich Hoyt