Gayland Enriques Quotes & Sayings

Phantoms of thought and memory thinned and fled. — Siegfried Sassoon

Wherever you are afraid, try to explore, and you will find death hiding somewhere behind. All fear is of death. Death is the only fear source. — Osho

We sat in silence, listening to strange creaks and groans in the maze, the echo of stones grinding together as tunnels changed, grew, and expanded. The dark made me think about the visions I'd seen of Nico di Angelo, and suddenly I realized something. — Rick Riordan

If you wrote about sex the way Jim [Salter] writes about sex in nonfiction, you would be a sociopath. — Lorin Stein

If, nevertheless, textbooks of pharmacology legitimately contain a chapter on drug abuse and drug addiction, then, by the same token, textbooks of gynecology and urology should contain a chapter on prostitution; textbooks of physiology, a chapter on perversion; textbooks of genetics, a chapter on the racial inferiority of Jews and Negroes. — Thomas Szasz

In fact, I can say that in the range of phenomena today, so far as I know there are no phenomena that we are sure cannot be explained this way, or even that there is deep mystery about. — Anonymous

I was inspired more by early Bette Midler. I do wear a fancy dress and very high heels - and extra high hair. My goal is to obliterate all earnestness. — Ana Gasteyer

Alcohol, for those addicted to it, is a kind of infatuation. It ends up displacing other relationships, becoming inseparable from your sense of who you are until a better, longer life no longer seems possible. — Louis Theroux

The women of Afghanistan have a voice, and it needs to be heard and not forgotten. — Gayle Tzemach Lemmon

That order generated without design can far outstrip plans men consciously contrive — Friedrich August Von Hayek

Success has less to do with what we can get ourselves to do and more to do with keeping ourselves from doing what we shouldn't. — Kenneth Cole

Every time they saw him, they recognized him and knew him and expected things of him. And every time he came up blank. It was like watching someone digging where they knew they'd buried something precious, digging and digging and realizing that whatever it was
was gone. But they kept digging just the same, because the idea of losing it was so terrible and because maybe.
Maybe.
He was that lost treasure. He was that maybe. And he hated it. That was the secret he was trying to keep from them, the one he was always fearing he would betray. — Cassandra Clare