Coldplays New Song Quotes & Sayings

Nirvana was huge, but it didn't appeal to everyone. — Eddie Van Halen

When Cole's kisses lingered on her belly button, she crossed her legs.
"Are you okay?" He appeared instantly at her eye level, worried.
"I'm fine. I just, I never let a guy ... um, well, they never wanted to. It's not what I do." Kyle's eyes looked everywhere but his.
"Is it because you don't think you'd like it, or you don't think you deserve it?"
She bit her lip and looked away again. He saw her answer.
"You do deserve it," he said fiercely. "Can I give it to you? — Debra Anastasia

As Jax went to knock on the door, she nearly stopped him. But the opportunity was eliminated as his knocks faded into silence. "Who?" A sleep-hazy voice called. "Your blushing princess," Jax called in a girlish falsetto. "Go away, Jax. — Elise Kova

I looked at his intelligent forehead, furrowed with premature wrinkles, produced probably by misfortune and sorrow. I tried to learn the secret of his life from the last words that escaped his lips. — Jules Verne

Of all the duties enjoined by Christianity none is more essential and yet more neglected than prayer. — Francois Fenelon

FRANK: Do you know Yeats?
RITA: The wine lodge?
FRANK: No, WB Yeats, the poet.
RITA: No.
FRANK: Well, in his poem 'The Wild Swans At Coole',Yeats rhymes the word "swan" with the word "stone". You see? That's an example of assonance.
RITA: Yeah, means getting the rhyme wrong. — Willy Russell

The enjoyment that all morality has given us to now and that it continues to give us
and so, what has kept it going up to now
lies in everyone's right, without lengthy investigation, to praise and blame. And who could endure life without praising and blaming! — Friedrich Nietzsche

Wei cleared his throat and said, "Have you heard the saying 'The wise adapt themselves to circumstances, as water molds itself to the pitcher'? It seems I've been the pitcher most of my life. I've forgotten how to be fluid. It feels as if I'm finally learning now," he said. — Gail Tsukiyama

I tried to describe impossible things like the scent of creosote - bitter, slightly resinous, but still pleasant - the high, keening sound of the cicadas in July, the feathery barrenness of the trees, the very size of the sky, extending white-blue from horizon to horizon, barely interrupted by the low mountains covered with purple volcanic rock. The hardest thing to explain was why it was so beautiful to me - to justify a beauty that didn't depend on the sparse, spiny vegetation that often looked half dead, a beauty that had more to do with the exposed shape of the land, with the shallow bowls of valleys between the craggy hills, and the way they held on to the sun. I found myself using my hands as I tried to describe it to him. — Stephenie Meyer