Elisa Pintado Quotes & Sayings

I consider myself a Jewish writer - even if my characters frequently are not Jewish - in the same way, I guess, that I consider myself a Jewish man, even though I don't often attend shul. — Darin Strauss

Everyone has it
To know what it is.
Take a journey deep within
And open your eyes wide.
Then you will see everything. — Ilchi Lee

I can honestly say that if I was told at this moment that I was dying, not my first, not my second, but certainly my third thought would be that I should never see Italy again. — Millicent Fawcett

I mean talk. Never forget that God is your friend. And like all friends, He longs to hear what's been happening in your life. Good or bad, whether it's been full of sorrow or anger, and even when you're questioning why terrible things have to happen. So I talk with
him. — Nicholas Sparks

I attended a symposium, an event named after a fifth century (B.C.) Athenian drinking party in which nonnerds talked about love; alas, there was no drinking, and mercifully, nobody talked about love. — Nassim Nicholas Taleb

Over milk and cookies after Karen's return, she confessed to Karen that she had no idea what Karen wanted out of life. "You're a cipher," she said. "A mystery. What are your ambitions and desires? When I was your age, I wanted to write plays." "I want to get good grades and go to college." "And what are you going to do when you get there?" "How would I know? I need to get there first and see what it's like. There are all these majors that sound neat, but I don't know what they are. Like 'sociology.' What is it? — Nell Zink

I mean, why on earth (outside sickness and hangovers) aren't people continually drunk? I want ecstasy of the mind all the time. — Jack Kerouac

Do they LOVE you,
or the MASK you put on everyday? — Anonymous

It's sweeping through our society faster than crack. [Except] with crack you could say, 'These people over here are doing it, adn these people aren't.' You can't do that with Ecstacy now. Everyone's doing it. — Gary Murray

As he lay there, he was sure that he could still feel the memory of that strange hand cupping the back of his neck; and he couldn't believe how empty his mouth felt, now that it only had his own tongue in it. — Neil Bartlett