Distilleries Making Quotes & Sayings

Poetry is a kind of distilled insinuation. It's a way of expanding and talking around an idea or a question. Sometimes, more actually gets said through such a technique than a full frontal assault, — Yusef Komunyakaa

Emotion only lasts in our bodies for about 90 seconds. After that, the physical reaction dissipates, UNLESS our cognitive brain kicks in and starts connecting our anger with past events. — Jill Bolte Taylor

What the church is really concerned about is what endures. — Donald Wuerl

Tell me something, Noah. Which is more important: freedom or happiness?'
What was this, a game? But Nijinsky wasn't smiling.
'You can't be happy unless your free,' Noah said. — Michael Grant

Is there anyone to whom you entrust a greater number of serious matters than your wife? And is there anyone with whom you have fewer conversations? — Socrates

I've always felt outside of things; I've always felt different. — Patti Smith

It is with great regret that I have to inform Manchester City of my wish to leave the club. — Carlos Tevez

I feel really good when I haven't felt good for a long time and then suddenly I feel okay again. Nothing feels better than this. — Stefanie Schneider

So I submit to you that what we represent is a Fifth Column, a Fifth Column that represents the best aspirations that human community is capable of, a Fifth Column that is willing to look at the structure of the psyche in contrast to the mess of society, and willing to dream. — Terence McKenna

CHANGE: Don't just talk about it, go out there and do it. Don't just meditate about it, go out there and create it. Don't just pray about it go out there and take action; participate in the answering of your own prayer. If you want change, get out there and live it. - Steve Maraboli — Steve Maraboli

If you believe that you can use sex to shore up your fragile self-esteem by stealing someone else's, we feel sorry for you, because this will never work to build a solid sense of self worth, and you will have to go on stealing more and more and never getting fulfilled. — Dossie Easton

One of her sandals had broken. It hung, hopeless, from her left ankle. They hadn't been designed for frantic running through the forests. They were for dancing on the terraces outside the palace, for strolling manicured paths through the Red Gardens. They were designed to be pretty and useless. Like her. — Imogen Keeper