Donna Genereux Quotes & Sayings

History repeats the old conceits, the glib replies, the same defeats. — Elvis Costello

Music should be like making love. Sometimes you want it soft and tender, another time you want it hard and aggressive. — Jeff Buckley

All I want is to mess around, and I don't really care about, if you love me, if you hate me, you can't save me, baby baby, all my life I've been good — Avril Lavigne

There's this whole sense of judgment and who's right and who's wrong and who's moral and who's going to be punished. — Sandra Bernhard

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever ever feel like you're less than, less than perfect. — Pink

In like a dimwit, out like a light. — Walt Kelly

The seeker embarks on a journey to find what he wants and discovers, along the way, what he needs. — Wally Lamb

I lean back against the velvet-cushioned seat and close my eyes to the sound of hooves pounding hard against the cobblestone streets. Their clip-clopping harmony keeping perfect tempo with the rumble of carriage wheels, affording a sound as sweet as any symphony I've ever heard.
It's the sound of escape
The sound of goodbye
A sound that's served to soothe me in the past, providing the much-needed assurance that the unwelcome inquiries and suspicions of newly alerted acquaintances would soon fade - allowing for a brief respite in a new location, before I'm on the move again.
I'm a gypsy.
A nomad.
A vagabond.
A drifter. — Alyson Noel

Let's not freak out here," Jett said, ever the diplomat in venom green nail polish and little skull earrings. "People aren't going to come until they've had their dinner. Pie is for dessert."
Maggie and I stood behind the counter, arms folded, and stared out the display window.
Jett shook her head. Leave it to her to be remarkably upbeat while the rest of us were uncharacteristically morose. "Maybe we should open up so that this wonderful pie aroma brings them in," she said brightly. She opened the door and used it to fan the pie air out onto the street.
And it worked.
Somebody walked in. — Judith Fertig

he's a fine, fine horse, — Michael Morpurgo

But now I discovered the wonderful power of wine. I understood why men become drunkards. For the way it worked on me was not at all that it blotted out these sorrows, but that it made them seem glorious and noble, like sad music, and I somehow great and revered for feeling them. — C.S. Lewis

I had to assume, of course, that every word Koblenz had told me, including "and" and "the," was a lie. That was a given. But I operated on that assumption most of the time anyway: Washington, D.C., is to lying what Hershey, Pennsylvania, is to chocolate. — Joseph Finder