Fleissig Auf Quotes & Sayings

All programming is maintenance programming, because you are rarely writing original code. — Dave Thomas

Change is not for its own sake, it's the means to the end, not the end. — Pearl Zhu

looked up, a frown on his face. "That was a necessity. Our wardrobe needed defending from all the girls hiding in it." Allie struggled to control her growing laughter. "Do tell, do you suffer many girls hiding in your furniture? — A.W. Exley

How about you hate your sin, and I'll hate my sin and we'll just love each other! — Mark Lowry

There's nothing like living as a refugee in one's own country to turn a generous soul into a hard little fist. — Barbara Kingsolver

Let yourself be loved, O Beloved, in the One. And from this One move out into the world, carrying within you the great potent energies of life to green your world, to create planets, suns, stars, stones, waves, oceans, to create new forms of life and expression - whether a friendship, a feeling or a new form of vocation. — Rumi

Every single one of the guys that I've written songs about has been tracked down on MySpace by my fans. — Taylor Swift

It doesn't matter so much where the material comes from, as long as it's good. — Steve Buscemi

I was shy. I was painfully shy, until fifth grade when I transferred to another school and befriended the class clown. And one day he was sick and I kinda stepped in for the class clown and I said, 'Wow, this is exciting, I'm a little bit nervous.' — Nathan Fillion

This is Wedge Antilles of the New Republic. I am trapped on the Star Destroyer Vigilance in the space above Akiva, and I am in - — Chuck Wendig

An artist's studio should be a small space because small rooms discipline the mind and large ones distract it. — Leonardo Da Vinci

What is unusual about Earth is that language, literally, has become alive. It has infested matter. It is replicating and defining and building itself. And it is in us. — Terence McKenna

My love will come
will fling open her arms and fold me in them,
will understand my fears, observe my changes.
In from the pouring dark, from the pitch night
without stopping to bang the taxi door
she'll run upstairs through the decaying porch
burning with love and love's happiness,
she'll run dripping upstairs, she won't knock,
will take my head in her hands,
and when she drops her overcoat on a chair,
it will slide to the floor in a blue heap. — Yevgeny Yevtushenko