Deliziosa Translation Quotes & Sayings

When we kiss my heart's on fire, burning with a strange desire. And I know that every time I kiss you, that your heart's on fire, too. — Elvis Presley

God asks no man whether he will accept life. That is not a choice. You must take it. The only question is how. — Henry Ward Beecher

Does Facebook behave like a tool in my hand, or a firehose designed to spew at me in accordance with other peoples' agendas? Concretely: can I write my own client to present a filtered view of the Facebook stream, or have other people do that for me? — Eric S. Raymond

Doode," George said.
He'd practiced all morning but still didn't get it quite right. "Nope, more u, less oo. Duuude."
"Dude."
"Dude."
"Okay, dude." George nodded.
"How's it hanging?" Jack asked.
"How am I supposed to answer that?" George looked at him.
"I don't think Kaldar said anything about that. I guess 'good'? I don't get it. What's hanging anyway?"
George shook his head. "Your stuff, you nimwit."
His stuff ... Oh. Ha! "In that case, it's hanging long!" Jack dissolved in giggles. "Long, get it? — Ilona Andrews

These are really terribly rough times, and we really should try to be as nice to each other as possible. — Lou Reed

She was made after the time of ribs and mud. By papal decree there were to be no more people born of the ground or from the marrow of bones. All would be created from the propulsions and mounts performed underneath bedsheets- rare exception granted for immaculate conceptions. The mixing pits were sledged and the cutting tables, where ribs were extracted from pigs and goats, were sawed in half. Although the monks were devout and obedient to the thunder of Rome, the wool of their robes was soaked not only by the salt of sweat but also by that of tears. The monks rolled down their heavy sleeves, hid their slaughter knives in the burlap of their scrips, and wiped the hoes clean. They closed the factory down, chained the doors with Vatican-crested locks, and marched off in holy formation. Three lines, their faces staring down in humility, closing their eyes when walking over puddles, avoiding their unshaven reflections. — Salvador Plascencia