Doustech Quotes & Sayings

Forgiveness is the attribute of the stong. — J. Sterling

it's human nature to assume that when we see a mistake, it's due to defects in someone else's department, knowledge, or character, — Eric Ries

One will never reach distant shores, if he chooses to remain upon the dock, In fear his little ship of dreams may be dashed against the rocks. — Fethullah Gulen

I just like doing standup, that's all I'm interested in or good at. — Norm MacDonald

Drink from the fountain of love where every drop is eternal passion. — Mahogany SilverRain

Well, you've done it now," was her sisterly
opening shot.
Jaine rubbed between her eyebrows; a definite headache was forming. After the exchange with
David, she waited to see where this one was going.
"I won't be able to hold up my head in church."
"Really? Oh, Shelley, I'm so sorry," Jaine said sweetly. "I didn't realize you have the dreaded
Limp Neck disease. When were you diagnosed? — Linda Howard

You can put things off until tomorrow but tomorrow may never come. — Gloria Estefan

It seems sometimes that people take a deliberately myopic and fill their eyes with things seen microscopically in order not to see macrosopically. — Marilyn Frye

I think it is important to pass on the message to young people who are going through a difficult time with friends that it will pass. — Clemence Poesy

I was too broke to buy a guitar so I more borrowed guitars from friends. — Ronnie Montrose

Nobody thinks about technical issues anymore because cameras or camera phones take care of that automatically. On the other hand, you still have the option of controlling every technical aspect. It's the most accessible, democratic medium available in the world. — Martin Parr

A movie in production is the greatest train set a boy could ever have. — Orson Welles

Only a true friend would try to get someone she cared about to become princess over herself. — Kiera Cass

It was a perfect spring day. The air was sweet and gentle and the sky stretched high, an intense blue. Harold was certain that the last time he had peered through the net drapes of Fossebridge Road (his home), the trees and hedges were dark bones and spindles against the skyline; yet now that he was out, and on his feet, it was as if everywhere he looked, the fields, gardens, trees, and hedgerows and exploded with growth. A canopy of sticky young leaves clung to the branches above him. There were startling yellow clouds of forsythia, trails of purple aubrietia; a young willow shook in a fountain of silver. The first of the potato shoots fingered through the soil, and already tiny buds hung from the gooseberry and currant shrubs like the earrings Maureen used to wear. The abundance of new life was enough to make him giddy. — Rachel Joyce