Devastada In English Quotes & Sayings

He knows the universe and does not know himself. — Jean De La Fontaine

My husband was getting his sea legs-rereading Joseph Conrad with a side order of C S Forester. — Enid Nemy

After about 25 fights you don't always have to keep going to the bathroom before the fight. — Lennox Lewis

You do resemble me," the duke said. "The question is, does your blood run hot or cold? — Nicole Luiken

Mythologically speaking, if there's anything I hate worse than trios of old ladies, it's bulls. Last summer, I fought the Minotaur on top of Half-Blood Hill. This time what I saw up there was even worse: two bulls. And not just regular bulls - bronze ones the size of elephants. And even that wasn't bad enough. Naturally they had to breathe fire, too. — Rick Riordan

We came to the house, and it is an old house, full of great chimneys where wood is burnt on ancient dogs upon the hearth, and grim portraits (some of them with grim legends, too) lower distrustfully from the oaken panels of the walls. — Charles Dickens

The gardens of our childhood are all beautiful. — Barbara Grizzuti Harrison

I'd like to write a history, maybe of the Reformation. — Jane Haddam

It's amazing how much 'mature wisdom' resembles being too tired. — Robert A. Heinlein

I can be anything you want but definitely not a wannabe. — Pushpa Rana

There are no solutions, only cowardice masquerading as such. — Emil Cioran

Love is what happens to men and women who don't know each other. — W. Somerset Maugham

Say that Finnegan Lane was something of a womanizer was like telling someone that it was a little steamy in the South in the summertime. Old, young, fat, thin, blonde, brunette, bald, toothless, face like a steel trap, Finn didn't care as long as it was breathing, female, and had the breasts to prove it. He wasn't even particular about how perky they were. — Jennifer Estep

The love of Christ towards His people is a deep well which has no bottom. — J.C. Ryle

As a young man, he was already rather pompous and full of himself, concerned with what he would write and with his early (and, later, perennial) hatred of Ireland and the Irish. When he had still written only a few poems, he asked his brother Stanislaus: "Don't you think there is a certain resemblance between the mystery of the Mass and what I am trying to do? I mean that I am trying in my poems to give people some kind of intellectual pleasure or spiritual enjoyment by converting the bread of daily life into something that has a permanent artistic life of its own ... for their mental, moral, and spiritual uplift." When he was older his comparisons may have been less eucharistic and more modest, but he was always convinced of the extreme importance of his work, even before it existed. — Javier Marias