Flier Flies Quotes & Sayings

With an easy life you can never grow mature; with a tough life you can never remain immature! — Mehmet Murat Ildan

He did things to her, she realized. Strange, shivery things that left her breathless. He need only to look at her - not in his usual, conversational way, but to really look at her, to let his eyes settle on hers, deeply blue and insightful, and she felt naked, her soul bared. — Julia Quinn

A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded. — Lord Byron

Sometimes I scare myself at how easily I slip inside my mind and live vicariously through these characters. — Teresa Mummert

I came here,' said Dick, rather oblivious of the purpose with which he had really come, 'with my bosom expanded, my heart dilated, and my sentiments of a corresponding description. I go away with feelings that may be conceived but cannot be described, feeling within myself that desolating truth that my best affections have experienced this night a stifler! — Charles Dickens

We just process things differently. It's not wrong - just different. — Tina J. Richardson

Roger reached the conclusion that the hero of his childhood and youth was one of the most unscrupulous villains the West had excreted onto the continent of Africa. — Mario Vargas-Llosa

The love of what you do, combined with your belief in what you do, will not determine your success. It will determine how hard you will work and how dedicated you will be to achieving it. Success just shows up from there. — Jeffrey Gitomer

It sometimes makes me feel sexy to wear something revealing. But I have gone too far. I have to be honest about that. — Toni Braxton

All fiction, whether straight or genre, whether literature or Literature, is a personal reinterpretation of its writers' existence during the time the fiction was written. — William Gibson

It wasn't really touching to be young; it was touching not to be young, because you had less of life left. Touching to be thirty; more touching to be forty; tragic to be fifty; and heartbreaking to be sixty. As to seventy, as to eighty, one would feel as one did during the last dance of a ball, tired but fey in the paling dawn, desperately making the most of each bar of music before one went home to bed. — Rose Macaulay