Eardrum Perforation Quotes & Sayings

Lying isn't something you should be proud of, but be grateful if you've gained a talent for doing it correctly. — Kate C. Conner

To see, feel, and understand the magic of life, always believe that life is beautiful and magical. — Debasish Mridha

The sun was trembling on the brink of the world, the shadows at their longest, and they still had several kilometers to go. — John Flanagan

I never used golf as a job. I used it as a game. I always thought if I played the game well, my financial rewards would be there, but it came from, because I played well. But I had to play well to get the financial rewards. — Jack Nicklaus

I decided at school that the only sensible way to make a living by arranging words in a pleasing order was by working on newspapers, because you got paid at the end of the week or the end of the month. — Terry Pratchett

I've been in front of a camera since I was a little girl, and that's the medium I understand. — Samantha Morton

I went to dance class as a girl because I didn't like sports, but I never did a dance recital in my life. Never, ever, ever. I felt comfortable dancing, and I was happiest dancing, but I was never the best person in the class. — Jennifer Grey

In no way am I demeaning writing or any other form of art because it's popular. What I'm saying is that anything fed into the industrial machinery to comply with rules of size and length and shelf-life has a hard time surviving as art. — Alberto Manguel

May your hand be full for always if only with another hand. May your heart be empty only long enough to give you cause to fill it up again with love. May your soul be lost by you only to be found by God. — Rod McKuen

The big thing about writing is three commands: Have fun. Don't think. Don't care. — Richard Bach

The teacher has not taught until the student has learned. — Howard G. Hendricks

What are you doing out here this late?" A frown pulls at his mouth. "It's one in the morning."
"Me?" I walk across the lawn slowly, still not fully trusting. "What are you doing here?" And no, I don't believe he had just been driving by. "Are you stalking me?" Hunting me? I want to add.
He blinks. Some of the tension carving his face loosens then. Replaced with something else. He rubs at the back of his neck. The move is self-conscious. Innately human. Embarrassed.
"I - "
"You are," I pronounce, an unbidden smile coming to my mouth.
"Look," he grumbles, his eyes angry. Defensive. "I just wanted to see where you live."
I stop before him. "Why?"
He rubs the back of his neck again, this time the motion is savage, annoyed. With me or himself, I'm not sure. — Sophie Jordan

Pride dies 20 minutes after death. — Saint Francis De Sales