Hamilton Editor Quotes & Sayings

Granma's name was Bonnie Bee. I knew that when I heard him late at night say, 'I kin ye, Bonnie Bee,' he was saying, 'I love ye,' for the feeling was in the words. — Forrest Carter

I love you more than the cookie monster loves cookies. — Truth Devour

I wonder what else I could do that I never thought I could. — Wendy Mass

Critical words to a child are as painful and damaging as being physically hit. They are verbal slaps in the face. Usually, critical words are accompanied by threats, name-calling, and yelling. This verbal abuse can be especially damaging. Insulting names echo in a child's mind over and over again until he comes to believe he is indeed stupid, selfish, lazy, or ugly and that in fact, that is all he is. — Beverly Engel

My editor picked out the name she wanted. I was either going to be Kim Harrison or Lisa Harrison, because she wanted me shelved right next to Hamilton. — Kim Harrison

To my eyes and ears the organ will ever be the King of Instruments. — Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Drake just stands for Do Right And Kill Everything — Drake

God in His mercy had sent messengers to convey His message, to different peoples, in different times. Each prophet came with guidance and miracles that were relevant for his time, and for his people, but the message was the same: That there is only one God, and worship is for him alone. This "Islam" was the religion brought by all the prophets of God. Islam was the religion of Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses and Jesus (peace be upon them all). God has in His Grace, addressed this issue to man in His final revelation, the Noble Quran. — Nosrat Rasool Allah

I know you the way I know my own heart, the way I feel my own pulse. I know what your laugh will be, how you wave good-bye, the crescent of thumbnail you worry between your teeth. I have known you from the second you entered this world, and if I were to leave it now, I would know you still, were I to dust or ash. — Tracy Guzeman

These wrinkles are nothing These gray hairs are nothing, This stomach which sags with old food, these bruised and swollen ankles, my darkening brain, they are nothing. I am the same boy my mother used to kiss. — Mark Strand