Ghassanieh Quotes & Sayings

Life Insurance is the only tool that takes pennies and guarantees dollars. — Ben Feldman

Once you've written a good script, it will get made or not get made, according to variables you cannot control, like stars getting interested, and the superstitions in Hollywood rising or falling around what is over and done with versus what's in. — Jon Spaihts

It's all about the script. Reality is key to me and less cutesy. — Jimmy Fallon

He rubbed the spot over his chest that ached for Jessica. And her regard will never alter or diminish. She knows the worst there is to know about me, yet she loves me in spite of my mistakes. No ... I would say perhaps she loves me because of them; because of how they've shaped me. — Sylvia Day

Once again we're talking to Brian Kenny, a man of many traits, a master of nothing. — Floyd Mayweather Jr.

When has religion ever been unifying? Religion has introduced many wars in this world, enough bloodshed and violence. — Elie Wiesel

Pat Moynihan could write books with one hand and legislate with the other. I can't; I have a short attention span. The slightest distraction would take me away from writing. — Barney Frank

A victory which is not honourable is nothing but a defeat! — Mehmet Murat Ildan

What if some of the most successful people in the world got that way because their success was fueled by a misappropriated need for love? What if the people we consider to be great are actually the most broken? And what if the whole time they're seeking applause they are missing out on true intimacy because they've never learned how to receive it? — Donald Miller

I wish for you the wisdom to mind your own business. — Steve Maraboli

It occurs to me as I write that this "white light," usually presented dippily (evidence of afterlife, higher power), is in fact precisely consistent with the oxygen deficit that occurs as blood flow to the brain decreases. "Everything went white," those whose blood pressure has dropped say of the instant before they faint. — Joan Didion

He is a writer for the ages, the ages of four to eight. — Dorothy Parker

It came as a gift. A large gray bird flew up with a loud alarm call as he approached. As it gained height and wheeled away over the valley, it gave out a piping sound on three notes, which he recognized as the inversion of a line he had already scored for a piccolo. How elegant, how simple. Turning the sequence round opened up the idea of a plain and beautiful song in common time, which he could almost hear. But not quite. An image came to him of a set of unfolding steps, sliding and descending-from the trap door of a loft, or from the door of a light plane. One note lay over and suggested the next. He heard it, he had it, and then it was gone. There was a glow of a tantalizing afterimage and the fading call of a sad little tune ... These notes were perfectly interdependent, little polished hinges swinging the melody through its perfect arc. He could almost hear it again as he reached the top of the angled rock slab and paused to reach into his pocket for notebook and pencil. — Steven Pinker