Hedda Gabler Character Quotes & Sayings

They say it's like true love, good help. You only get one in a lifetime. — Kathryn Stockett

Truth is the ricochet of a prejudice bouncing off a fact. — Christopher Morley

The love between us is fire and ice. It's loss, and it's redemption. It's pain, and it's comfort. It is everything. — Callie Hart

If I should die," Dalinar said, "then I would do so having lived my life right. It is not the destination that matters, but how one arrives there."
"The Codes?"
"No. The Way of Kings."
"That storming book. — Brandon Sanderson

Photography's central sense of purpose and aesthetic: the precise and lucid description of significant fact. — John Szarkowski

We realize that by criticizing Jewish fundamentalism we are criticizing a part of the past that we love. We wish that members of every human grouping would criticize their own past, even before criticizing others. — Israel Shahak

Lila walked by with her nose in the air. In a straight line behind her, six obedient kindergartners waddled like baby geese, singing in unison, 'Row, row, row your yacht ... — Francine Pascal

When the pain that the little me creates for itself becomes intense enough, the ego will self-destruct. It has a self-destruct mechanism built in, fortunately, so eventually every ego dies. — Eckhart Tolle

Baby you're a firework, c'mon show 'em what you're worth..." ~Firework — Katy Perry

A learning machine is any device whose actions are influenced by past experience. — Nils John Nilsson

Suppose one who had always continued blind be told by his guide that after he has advanced so many steps he shall come to the brink of a precipice, or be stopped by a wall; must not this to him seem very admirable and surprising? He cannot conceive how it is possible for mortals to frame such predictions as these, which to him would seem as strange and unaccountable as prophesy doth to others. Even they who are blessed with the visive faculty may (though familiarity make it less observed) find therein sufficient cause of admiration. — David Berman

ALL HE COULD SEE, IN EVERY DIRECTION, WAS WATER. It was June 23, 1943. Somewhere on the endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean, Army Air Forces bombardier and Olympic runner Louie Zamperini lay across a small raft, drifting westward. Slumped alongside him was a sergeant, one of his plane's gunners. On a separate raft, tethered to the first, lay another crewman, a gash zigzagging across his forehead. Their bodies, burned by the sun and stained yellow from the raft dye, had winnowed down to skeletons. Sharks glided in lazy loops around them, dragging their backs along the rafts, waiting. — Laura Hillenbrand