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Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes & Sayings

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Top Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes

Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes By Robert Harris

To say she was my girlfriend was absurd: no one the wrong side of thirty has a girlfriend ... I suppose I ought to have realize it's ominous that forty thousand years of human language had failed to produce a word for our relationship. — Robert Harris

Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes By Jeff Koons

I spend much more time looking at art history and at different references to art than I do at actual objects. — Jeff Koons

Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes By Ally Condie

She cried before she slept. I reached out to touch the ends of her hair. She didn't notice. I didn't know what to do. Listening to her made me ache. I felt tears stream down my face too. And when I accidentally brushed Eli with my arm his face was wet where his tears ran down. We have all been carved out by our sorrow. Cut deep like canyon walls. — Ally Condie

Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes By Gurdieff

G. I. Gurdieff, "Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandson"
So-and-so-and-so-must-be; do-not-do-what-must-not-be.
Mullah's favorite saying. p. 598 — Gurdieff

Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes By Valgame

You are always ready for the truth, no matter how hard it is, what you are never ready for lies — Valgame

Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes By Carlos Ghosn

I think the new generation is much more demanding about respect for the environment than we have ever imagined. — Carlos Ghosn

Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes By Danny Masterson

Spin-offs were never really my thing. — Danny Masterson

Himym Season 7 Episode 17 Quotes By Roger Lea MacBride

Sometimes when Rose was reading, she would catch a whiff of the musty smell of her book. She put her nose down in the fold and inhaled deeply so that wonderful smell, the smell of adventure in faraway lands, would fill her up. She rubbed her hand across the pages to feel the velvety surface of the paper. When she closed her eyes, her fingertips could even feel the words that were printed there, each letter raised just a little, almost like the special language that her blind aunt Mary could read.
To Rose, a book was as real and alive as if it breathed and walked and spoke. — Roger Lea MacBride