Chest Recipe Quotes & Sayings

One big vice in a man is apt to keep out a great many smaller ones. — Bret Harte

The life above, when this is past,
Is the ripe fruit of life below.
Sow love, and taste its fruitage pure;
Sow peace, and reap its harvest bright;
Sow sunbeams on the rock and moor,
And find a harvest-home of light. — Horatius Bonar

Ask not what you have done for Lyndon Johnson, but what you have done for him lately. — Robert A. Caro

Okay, pull me up."
The rope didn't move.
"Ascanio?" What was it now? Did he see a butterfly and get distracted?
The rope slid up, as fast as if wound by a winch. I shot upward. What the ... ?
I cleared the edge and found myself face to face with Curran.
Oh boy.
He held the rope with one hand, muscles bulging on his arm under his sweatshirt. No strain showed on Curran's face. It's good to be the baddest shapeshifter in the city. Behind him Ascanio stood very still, pretending to be invisible.
Curran's gray eyes laughed at me. The Beast Lord reached out and touched my nose with his finger. "Boop. — Ilona Andrews

Very few things in life are worthy of the kind of emotional distress we put ourselves through. — John Mayer

I chose my pen name when I was ten, because I knew even then that my legal name would be more trouble than it was worth. — Marie Brennan

The lost sense that we play out our lives as part of a greater story — David Whyte

You don't believe Hobbamock is invincible?" "No. My people centuries ago proved that. He is powerful - and gaining strength with each new child. But I do not think he is invincible . . . yet. Could he become invincible? Could he gain so much strength that nothing could stop him? This is a question that has kept me up nights." "But you're convinced he can be defeated?" "Absolutely." "By a kid carrying some kind of magic spear." "Yes," Charlie said softly. "I had . . . an experience, what Quidnecks call pniese. What your Bible calls a revelation or apocalypse. The pniese made everything clear. — Chet Williamson

'The Spy Who Came in from the Cold' was the work of a wayward imagination brought to the end of its tether by political disgust and personal confusion. — John Le Carre