Grainland Crimped Quotes & Sayings

I read of the Kalamazoo girl who killed herself after reading the book. I am not at all surprised. She lived in Kalamazoo, for one thing, and then she read the book. — Mary MacLane

He wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to sit and listen to her talk about books until his ears fell off. But all these were things he could not want, because they were things he could not have, and wanting what you could not have led to misery and madness. — Cassandra Clare

I often said that when they put me in jail in 1981 it was not the FBI's intent, but they saved my life. They only have seven days in a week, and by the time I went to jail I was drinking eight. — Charles Brandt

Aristotle wrote that the human soul is purged by the fear and compassion that tragedy evokes. — Jo Nesbo

there is nothing we can do or not do that would cause God to love us any more than he does right now. — Peter Scazzero

The highway is alive tonight But nobody's kiddin' nobody about where it goes I'm sittin' down here in the campfire light With the ghost of old Tom Joad. — Bruce Springsteen

None of what's become of me was Seattle's fault. Well, it might be Seattle's fault. The people are pretty boring. But let's withhold final judgment until I start being more of an artist and less of a menace. — Maria Semple

Above all, he could not stop half way, that was nonsense not only in business but always and everywhere. — Franz Kafka

I was determined if I was going to become a superstar it would be on my terms. I've had that ethic since the beginning. — Roy Harper

Even a wild horse can be tamed; even metal that is difficult to work eventually goes into a mold. If you take it easy and do not stir yourself, you will never make any progress. It has been said, "It is no disgrace to have many afflictions: I would worry if there never were any afflictions." — Zicheng Hong

It is wrong to become absorbed in the divine law to such a degree as not to perceive human law. Death belongs to God alone. By what right do men touch that unknown thing? — Victor Hugo