Castanheira Americana Quotes & Sayings

By keeping the annuities, we could build up a national industry every years as big as the Shannon Scheme. — Eamon De Valera

Stomp stomp.
Whirr.
Pleased to be of service.
Shut up.
Thank you.
Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp.
Whirr.
Thank you for making a simple door very happy.
Hope your diodes rot.
Thank you. Have a nice day.
Stomp stomp stomp stomp.
Whirr.
It is my pleasure to open for you ...
Zark off.
... and my satisfaction to close again with the knowledge of a job well done.
I said zark off.
Thank you for listening to this message. — Douglas Adams

There must still be room for the falling note, of course. Even in an undying world there are times when beauty passes from sight, or love passes from the heart, and we feel the sorrow of partition. — Clive Barker

She wore a lot of makeup, badly applied. There was lipstick on her teeth. If she'd been a dancer, it must have been in Fantasia. — Robert B. Parker

Ultimately, running a band is about the relationships you have with people. — Billy Corgan

The hardest part was acknowledging I might never see you again. Realizing how much you mean to me and how much I'd miss your pretty face every morning and night. Realizing all the things I didn't do with you and might never get a chance to. But I think most of the pain came from the realization that the time we spent together was not enough for me and I couldn't force you to feel the same. — J.C. Reed

Three hundred pages of cotton-soft parchment, bound up with a green ribbon. Her writing gushed in watery ripples over the pages, penmanship that called to mind the maddest intricate Belgian lace. Wrought on a pin's head but stretching for miles if unraveled. — Lyndsay Faye

Hope has no feathers
Hope takes flight
tethered with twine
like a tattered kite,
slave to the wind's
capricious drift
eager to soar
but needing lift

Hope waits stubbornly
watching the sky
for turmoil, feeding on
things that fly:
crows, ashes, newspapers,
dry leaves in flight
all suggest wind
that could lift a kite

Hope sails and plunges
firmly caught
at the end of her string -
fallen slack, pulling taught,
ragged and featherless.
Hope never flies
but doggedly watches
for windy skies. — Elizabeth Wein