Dwaine Caraway Quotes & Sayings

One quick sidebar on this topic - don't waste any more time trying to make your web pages work for browsers that don't support HTML5 - it's self-defeating and can, in many instances actually harm your position in SERP's. — Michalis Kotzakolios

Since one cannot visually experience the presence of the Supersoul, He appears before us as a liberated devotee. Such a spiritual master is none other than Krishna himself. — A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada

Adrian kept sending me e-mails, asking me to rescue him (while also offering unsolicited dating advice). Ms. Terwilliger continued her passive aggressive attempts to teach me magic. Eddie continued in his fierce dedication to Jill. And Angeline continued her not-so-subtle advances on Eddie. — Richelle Mead

I've learnt that I've had the best results from just trying to be me, trying to make a movie or TV show I want to see or write a script I want to read, and that's really all I can offer - being authentic. — Dax Shepard

Anybody with any ambition at all, or intelligence, has left Canada and is now living in New York. — Tucker Carlson

London opens to you like a novel itself. [ ... ] It is divided into chapters, the chapters into scenes, the scenes into sentences; it opens to you like a series of rooms, door, passsage, door. Mayfair to Piccadilly to Soho to the Strand. — Anna Quindlen

The motive for metaphor ... is a desire to associate, and finally to identify, the human mind with what goes on outside it, because the only genuine joy you can have is in those rare moments when you feel that although we may know in part, as Paul says, we are also a part of what we know. — Northrop Frye

Let's make a deal: You figure out what the labyrinth is and how to get out of it, and i'll get you laid. -Alaska Young — John Green

Nothing had warned him that he might be overwhelmed by the swaying, shining vision of a girl he hadn't seen in years, a girl whose every glance and gesture could make his throat fill up with longing ("Wouldn't you like to be loved by me?"), and that then before his very eyes she would dissolve and change into the graceless, suffering creature whose existence he tried every day of his life to deny but whom he knew as well and as painfully as he knew himself, a gaunt constricted woman whose red eyes flashed reproach, whose false smile in the curtain call was as homely as his own sore feet, his own damp climbing underwear and his own sour smell. — Richard Yates