Decurrere Quotes & Sayings

It's supposed to be automatic, but actually you have to push this button. — John Brunner

I've always had a talent for recognizing when I am in a moment worth being nostalgic for. — Lena Dunham

A great sorrow, like a mariner's quadrant, brings the sun at noon down to the horizon, and we learn where we are on the sea of life. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Horror, for me, has to involve some sort of fantasy. Horror is something that is in your dreams or your nightmares. — Cassandra Peterson

Life is essentially an endless series of problems. The solution to one problem is merely the creation of another. — Mark Manson

Love," as he now conceived of it, involved "slow growth, many slowly formed bonds, tests by vicissitudes as well as pleasure, mutual sharing of esthetic experiences, humor, sensory things from food through music to passion, etc." Any truly lasting relationship, he concluded would necessitate "a lengthy apprenticeship. — Jennet Conant

I like on the table, when we're speaking, the light of a bottle of intelligent wine. — Pablo Neruda

The Cabala may be defined to be a system of philosophy which embraces certain mystical interpretations of Scripture, and metaphysical and spiritual beings ... Much use is made of it in the advanced degrees, and entire Rites have been constructed on its principles. — Albert Mackey

The short bloom of our brief and narrow life flies fast away. While we are calling for flowers and wine and women, old age is upon us.
[Lat., Festinat enim decurrere velox
Flosculus angustae miseraeque brevissima vitae
Portico; dum bibimus dum sera unguenta puellas
Poscimus obrepit non intellecta senectus.] — Juvenal

An object is not so attached to its name that we cannot find another one that would suit it better. — Rene Magritte

I was member of the Diet as long as it existed, until May 1933. — Fritz Sauckel

More than anything else, though, to anyone who would write about it, golf offers a four-hour drama in two acts, which becomes memorable even in the tape-recorded reminiscenses of old champs, and which - in the hands of someone like Herb Wind - can become a piece of war correspondence as artfully controlled as Alan Morehead's account of Gallipoli. — Alistair Cooke