Czyan Quotes & Sayings

Then as I was getting up to the Closerie des Lilas with the light on my old friend, the statue of Marshal Ney with his sword out and the shadows of the trees on the bronze, and he alone there and nobody behind him and what a fiasco he'd made of Waterloo, I thought that all generations were lost by something and always had been and always would be and I stopped at the Lilas to keep the statue company and drank a cold beer before going home to the flat over the sawmill. — Ernest Hemingway,

We never can tell how our lives may work to the account of the general good, and we are not wise enough to know if we have fulfilled our mission or not. — Ellen Swallow Richards

Engagement pictures made me want to vomit - especially when they were taken on railroad tracks. I always pictured Thomas the Train rolling over them, his smiley blue face beaded with their blood. — Tarryn Fisher

I am not fighting for success, just to get more beauty out of myself and share it with more people. — Ben Okri

I can't stand Bob Dylan. — Charlotte Church

I am endeavoring to steer gymnastics out of a dead end that satisfies only a handful of short-sighted individuals with nostalgia for an era gone by. — Bruno Grandi

In high school, my English teacher Celeste McMenamin introduced me to the great novels and Shakespeare and taught me how to write. Essays, poetry, critical analysis. Writing is a skill that was painful then but a love of mine now. — Aaron Lazar

Clean," Peter said.
"Can I get a water bottle or something to clean his hands?" I scanned the crowd. He drew my attention back to him with a pull of my hand.
"No," Peter said. "I'm ... clean."
I had missed who Peter was until that very moment ...
I broke. It wasn't a visible fracture. I didn't sob or explode into anguish. I didn't give in to my vomitus urge that came from the burst of self-loathing. But I shattered nonetheless.
"Well, you look filthy," I said, hitting redial on his phone and jamming it to my ear. — Dani Alexander

She was capable of causing me pain, but no longer any joy. Pain alone kept my wearisome attachment alive. — Marcel Proust

In the forest, while the others settled the baskets and dishtowels under the trees, Jacques helped Michel rub down the horses and fasten around their necks the gray-brown canvas nose bags, in which the horses chomped their jaws, opening and closing their large brotherly eyes or chasing away a fly with an impatient hoof. — Albert Camus