Clearings Bala Quotes & Sayings

I lie in my darkened room. Scavenger birds peck at the oozing matter that leaks from my crushed skull. — E. Lockhart

The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one. — J.D. Salinger

A solitary laugh is often a laugh of superiority. — Graham Greene

My brother is the lead singer of The Torn, and my parents are in a country duo. — Sheridan Smith

How did you know what's been killing me? Slowly, for years, driving me to hate people when I don't want to hate ... Have you felt it, too? Have you seen how your best friends love everything about you
except the things that count? And your most important is nothing to them, nothing, not even a sound they can recognize. You mean, you want to hear? You want to know what I do and why I do it, you want to know what I think? It's not boring to you? It's important? — Ayn Rand

When it is darkest, we can see the stars. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

I remember in '37 when trolley cars were so big in New York. It was five cents for a ride ... There used to be open-air buses, and you could go up a spiral staircase and sit up on top. Those were great, great days. — Tiny Tim

Skyrocketing insurance premiums are debilitating our Nation's health care delivery system and liability insurers are either leaving the market or raising rates to excessive levels. — Jim Ryun

It perplexes me how many people write books where everyone comes from the same basic set of backgrounds - middle class, white, straight, etc. It's like writing a book set in a world without coincidences, accidents, and colors. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? It reduces drama and conflicts and narrows the possible variety of points of view. And really, the whole magic of books is to show us the world through someone else's eyes. Experiencing the Other is what novels are for. — Scott Westerfeld

Siry answered with one simple, shattering word. Veelox. — D.J. MacHale

I learned a long time ago, Ellie, that 'if only' is a very dangerous game indeed. — Jojo Moyes

She walked with measured steps, draped in striped and fringed cloths, treading the earth proudly, with a slight jingle and flash of barbarous ornaments. She carried her head high; her hair was done in the shape of a helmet; she had brass leggings to the knee, brass wire gauntlets to the elbow, a crimson spot on her tawny cheek, innumerable necklaces of glass beads on her neck; bizarre things, charms, gifts of witch-men, that hung about her, glittered and trembled at every step. She must have had the value of several elephant tusks upon her. She was savage and superb, wild-eyed and magnificent; there was something ominous and stately in her deliberate progress. And in the hush that had fallen suddenly upon the whole sorrowful land, the immense wilderness, the colossal body of the pensive, as though it had been looking at the image of its own tenebrous and passionate soul. — Joseph Conrad