Catrice Advent Quotes & Sayings

Hope is bulletproof, truth just hard to hit — Christopher Moore

There is always going to be a little bit of me in each character. — Abraham Benrubi

Why is it we are not constantly awed by the size and majesty of the universe?" "Habit," he said. "We are accustomed to it. I suppose if we had been blind from birth - in both eyes - and could suddenly see, we would be so overwhelmed by a night like this that we would either gaze upward at it until dawn or else cling to the earth, afraid that we were about to fall off. Or perhaps we would simply assume that we were at the center of it all and the lords of all we beheld." The — Mary Balogh

Uniformity is not nature's way; diversity is nature's way. — Vandana Shiva

When you get an e-mail and reply to the sender, you simply obliterate everything they sent you and then, in small square brackets, write: [deletia] It stands for everything that's been lost. — Douglas Coupland

I do not intend that our natural resources shall be exploited by the few against the interests of the many. — Theodore Roosevelt

In using the present in order to reveal the past, we assume that the forces in the world are essentially the same through all time; for these forces are based on the very nature of matter, and could not have changed. The ocean has always had its waves, and those waves have always acted in the same manner. Running water on the land has ever had the same power of wear and transportation and mathematical value to its force. The laws of chemistry, heat, electricity, and mechanics have been the same through time. The plan of living structures has been fundamentally one, for the whole series belongs to one system, as much almost as the parts of an animal to the one body; and the relations of life to light and heat, and to the atmosphere, have ever been the same as now. — James Dwight Dana

Crouchers move through a garden at a stoop: naming, gasping, horraying, admiring or coveting plants; Gapers saunter, smiling or sighing at what they find, succumbing to an intangible beatitude that takes them for a brief escape into another dimension. Both sorts of gardener are besotted; both get their hands dirty; think and talk gardening; but on the threshold of another's garden, each use a different set of whiskers. — Mirabel Osler

The lines and verses are only the outward garments of the poem and are no more really it than your ruffles and flounces are YOU, — L.M. Montgomery