Dos Command Line Double Quotes & Sayings

I've played the song for a lot of people who respond, 'Hmmmm, this is interesting,' but in a way it's more like 'There are two exits in this room, the window and the door. If this song doesn't end soon, I'm going to opt for the window. — Rob Sheffield

There must be reasons why we men are so hipped on breasts as if we'd all been weaned too soon. — Gunter Grass

This visible world is wonderfully to be delighted in, and highly to be esteemed, because it is the theatre of God's righteous Kingdom. — Thomas Traherne

We tune because you care. — Herb Pedersen

Most secrets are secrets of the mouth. Gossip shared and small scandals whispered. These secrets long to be let loose upon the world. A secret of the mouth is like a stone in your boot. At first you're barely aware of it. Then it grows irritating, then intolerable. Secrets of the mouth grow larger the longer you keep them, swelling until they press against your lips. They fight to be let free. Secrets of the heart are different. They are private and painful, and we want nothing more than to hide them from the world. They do not swell and press against the mouth. They live in the heart, and the longer they are kept, the heavier they become. — Patrick Rothfuss

There is only one group of people who do not have problems, and they are all dead. Problems are a sign of life, so the more problems you have, the more alive you are. — Norman Vincent Peale

New York is a fantastic city. — Marat Safin

Wake up and smell the corpses. — Judith Fitzgerald

The mystic sees the ineffable, and the psychopathologist the unspeakable. — W. Somerset Maugham

Whatever you want, Steven. Whatever you want. I want you. I want you to have all of me," I say. One of his huge arms wraps around the front of my slight body and his fingers slip into my wetness, stroking me firmly. I press back against him to feel his erection against my backside. It's hard and huge and throbbing in protest. The unladylike words that I want to say shock even myself. His fingers work me skillfully, unmercifully. A moan slips as the sounds of my wetness fill the air. — Rachel Robinson