Hayami Chan Quotes & Sayings

As scientists you must keep your minds open. There is no use having blind faith in Me, in Sahaja Yoga, in anything because blindness will never give you reality. But you should be open like scientists are and whatever hypothesis I am putting before you, you have to feel it on your central nervous system. — Nirmala Srivastava

A good book makes you feel better about the world — Me

When I lived in Los Angeles, I used to live in the Hollywood Hills, behind Grauman's Theater, and I'd always hit the matinees. — J. D. Souther

I do not often attack the Labour Party, they do it so well themselves. — Edward Heath

When one is undone - sprawled across the cold tile of a public bathroom in a pool of one's own vomit, or shivering in the back of a taxi in a pair of urine-soaked skinny jeans with no money for cab fare and a dead cell phone battery - much like a wobbly toddler or an unhinged politician, one immediately looks for someone else to blame. God. Your parents. Ex-girlfriends. Undocumented immigrants. Marvin in Human Resources. China. — Aisha Tyler

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12 CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 14 CHAPTER 15 CHAPTER 16 CHAPTER 17 CHAPTER 18 CHAPTER — Joe Hart

How can He be perfect? Everything He ever makes ... dies. — George Carlin

Oh yeah, Cole?" Joey says, making the world's dopiest body-builder pose. "You like that?"

"Yeah, maybe I should share a bed with you tonight," Cole says. "You can be the big spoon. — Mercy Brown

The ship's surgeon was a spotty unshaven little man whose clothes, arrayed with smudges, drippings, and cigarette burns, were held about him by an extensive network of knotted string, The buttons down the front of those duck trousers had originally been made, with all of false economy's ingenious drear deception, of coated cardboard. After many launderings they persisted as a row of gray stumps posted along the gaping portals of his fly. Though a boutoniere sometimes appeared through some vacancy in his shirt-front, its petals, too, proved to be of paper, and he looked like the kind of man who scrapes foam from the top of a glass of beer with the spine of a dirty pocket comb, and cleans his nails at table with the tines of his salad fork, which things, indeed, he did. He diagnosed Camilla's difficulty as indigestion, and locked himself in his cabin. that was the morning. — William Gaddis