Graybill Chrome Quotes & Sayings

It's not easy, pairing yourself off with someone forever. It's an admirable thing, and I'm glad you're both doing it, but, boy-oh-girl-oh, there will be days you wish you'd never done it. And those will be the good times, when it's only days of regret and not months. — Gillian Flynn

We all have our own little thing, I think. — Patricia Arquette

I don't hesitate to say that if we truly grasped the improbability and overwhelming power of God's love, we would be changed forever. We would think differently. Feel differently. Live differently. Nothing would be the same. — Francis Chan

When you lost something precious, the memories of it became a tormenting reminder of what you could never have again. — Gena Showalter

If, when you talk to people, they keep backing away from you, it's because you're TOO CLOSE, alright? SO DON'T KEEP ADVANCING ON THEM LIKE A HUMAN GLACIER. — Dave Barry

It's always interesting when one doesn't see. If you don't see what a thing means, you must be looking at it wrong way round. — Agatha Christie

For cubic U I didn't know how it all got started at all. — Utada Hikaru

Anyone who (dis)likes G. W. Bush, but (dis)likes B. H. Obama, is either completely delusional or a complete idiot. — Michel Templet

Twenty days," I said, looking at my father. "I'd say you're right." We smiled and stroked the leaves like swaddled babes, enjoying the soft music they created together in the breeze. — William Kamkwamba

A central administration enervates the nations in which it exists by incessantly diminishing their public spirit. If such an administration succeeds in convincing all the disposable resources of a people, it impairs at least the renewal of those resources. — Alexis De Tocqueville

She felt something similar, but worse in a way, about hundreds and hundreds of books she'd read, novels, biographies, occasional books, about music and art - she could remember nothing about them at all, so that it seemed rather pointless even to say that she had read them; such claims were things people set great store by but she hardly supposed they recalled any more than she did. Sometimes a book persisted as a coloured shadow at the edge of sight, as vague and unrecapturable as something seen in the rain from a passing vehicle; looked at directly it vanished altogether. Sometimes there were atmospheres, even the rudiments of a scene; a man in an office looking over Regent's Park, rain in the street outside - a little blurred etching of a situation she would never, could never, trace back to its source in a novel she had read some time, she thought, in the past thirty years. — Alan Hollinghurst