Ferranti Auto Quotes & Sayings

Consider what really makes up your self-worth - like your caring heart or your ability to stand tall in the face of adversity — Susan Bernstein

Religion is, by definition, interpretation; and by definition, all interpretations are valid. However, some interpretations are more reasonable than others. — Reza Aslan

Read enough books to build your sacred soul. — Lailah Gifty Akita

How can we know ourselves by ourselves? ... Soul needs intimate connection, not only to individuate, but simply to live. For this we need relationships of the profoundest kind through which we can realize ourselves, where self-revelation is possible, where interest in and love for soul is paramount. — James Hillman

I'm here to be me, which is taking a great deal longer than I had hoped. — Anne Lamott

You can never rise above the light you look up to. — Matthew Ashimolowo

In painting one must search rather for suggestion than for description, as is done in music. — Paul Gauguin

Whatever a writer gets paid for his book, it's never enough. I think that's true. It's hard work. But in the end, you wrote a book. It's something real and tangible that sits on a shelf forever. — Jim Gaffigan

Harlem sleeps late. — Jacob M. Appel

Good prose almost always requires both showing and telling, scenes and summary, the two basic components of creative prose. — Laurie Alberts

If you don't develop your skill at enjoying what you have, you won't be any happier when you get more. — Barbara De Angelis

I don't know when I died. It always seemed to me I died old, about ninety years old, and what years, and that my body bore it out, from head to foot. But this evening, alone in my icy bed, I have the feeling I'll be older than the day, the night, when the sky with all its lights fell upon me, the same I had so often gazed on since my first stumblings on the distant earth. For I'm too frightened this evening to listen to myself rot, waiting for the great red lapses of the heart, the tear sings at the caecal walls, and for the slow killings to finish in my skull, the assaults on unshakable pillars, the fornications with corpses. So I'll tell myself a story, I'll try and tell myself another story, to try and calm myself, and it's there I feel I'll be old, old, even older than the day I fell, calling for help, and it came. Or is it possible that in this story I have come back to life, after my death? No, it's not like me to come back to life, after my death. — Samuel Beckett