Huhhhhhhh Quotes & Sayings

With music, one's whole future life is brightened. This is such a treasure in life that it helps us over many troubles and difficulties. Music is nourishment, a comforting elixir. Music multiplies all that is beautiful and of value in life. — Zoltan Kodaly

Freedom is not an abstaction, nor is a little of it enough. A little more is not enough either. Having less, being less, empoverished in freedom and rights, women then invariably have less self-respect: less self-respect than any human being needs to live a brave and honest life. — Andrea Dworkin

The weak are dominated by their ego, the wise dominate their ego, and the intelligent are in a constant struggle against their ego. — Hamza Yusuf

Have a sense of pride in your motherland. Just as your mother has given birth to you, so too the land has given birth to you. — Sathya Sai Baba

My sister is a masseuse, so we trade - she gives me massages and I give her prepared meals. It's a great system I'd recommend: Cook or babysit for a friend in exchange for one of her skills. — Giada De Laurentiis

Donte was stood there with Claire's phone. "Your not Claire! Where is she?" I say as I stand up. "Issobelle! Stand right there and do not move! Do you hear me?" shit! He sounds angry! I should be angry not him. I go to walk past him, but he grabs me and pushes me against the wall. He used quiet abit of force and hurt my back, but he wasn't letting go. I tried to pull away but his grip got tighter. He was actually hurting me. "Donte! Get the hell of me! Your hurting me! — T.L. Messruther

The slate black sky. The middle step
of the back porch. And long ago

my mother's necklace, the beads
rolling north and south. Broken

the rose stem, water into drops, glass
knob on the bedroom door. Last summer's

pot of parsley and mint, white roots
shooting like streamers through the cracks.

Years ago the cat's tail, the bird bath,
the car hood's rusted latch. Broken

little finger on my right hand at birth--
I was pulled out too fast. What hasn't

been rent, divided, split? Broken the days into nights, the night sky

into stars, the stars into patterns
I make up as I trace them

with a broken-off blade
of grass. Possible, unthinkable,

the cricket's tiny back as I lie
on the lawn in the dark, my hart

a blue cup fallen from someone's hands. — Dorianne Laux