Despedirse Present Quotes & Sayings

We are all fragile. It's the thing we learn in war — Kristin Hannah

The love of heaven makes one heavenly. — William Shakespeare

There are two kinds of perfect: The one you can never achieve, and the other, by just being yourself. — Lauren King

And I am weary of the anguish
Increasing winters bear;
Weary to watch the spirit languish
Through years of dead despair.
So, if a tear, when thou art dying,
Should haply fall from me,
It is but that my soul is sighing,
To go and rest with thee. — Emily Bronte

The minds that rise and become really great are never self-satisfied, but still continue to strive. — Claude Bernard

Easy as cake."
"Pie."
"Yeah. I can't make pie. My cousin got all the baking genes, but if it comes out of a box and has very detailed instructions, I can make an edible cake. Cake is easy. Pie's a bitch. — Vivi Andrews

The biggest hurdle to writing Fargo Rock City was that I couldn't afford a home computer - I had to get a new job so I could buy a computer. It could all change though. In five years, I could be back at some daily newspaper, which wouldn't be so bad. — Chuck Klosterman

Specialisation encouraged innovation, because it encouraged the investment of time in a tool-making tool. That saved time, and prosperity is simply time saved, which is proportional to the division of labour. — Matt Ridley

Your life can't go according to plan if you have no plan. — Zig Ziglar

You see I've been taking these tests to tell when I'm ovulating and when I'm mostfertile. And well ... it's now."
"Oh, so you came up here for a fuck?"
Emma cringed. "Do you always have to be so crude?"
He chuckled. "I'm sorry. Would you prefer I call it an afternoon delight?" he teased. — Katie Ashley

Alain Badiou was once seated amongst the public in a room where I was delivering a talk, when his cellphone (which, to add insult to injury, was mine
I had lent it to him) all of a sudden started to ring. Instead of turning it off, he gently interrupted me and asked me if I could talk more softly, so that he could hear his interlocutor more clearly ... If this was not an act of true friendship, I do not know what friendship is. So, this book is dedicated to Alain Badiou. — Slavoj Zizek

I sit cross-legged on the rock The valleys and streams are cold and damp Sitting quietly is beautiful The cliffs are lost in mist and fog I rest happily in this place At dusk the tree shadows are low I look into my mind A white lotus emerges from the dark mud — Hanshan