Incomplete Friendship Quotes & Sayings

In the beginning, we're told, was the word. Every once in a while someone shows up on the planet who is word-obsessed and word-gifted; and the light and darkness get named again. In our day, that someone is Buechner. — John Ortberg

You are the master of your own ship, pal. There are lots of people who fall into troubled waters and don't have the guts or the knowledge or the ability to make it to shore. They have nobody to blame but themselves. — Evel Knievel

I just wanted to let people know that, in any aspect in which you're getting' money, you've gotta go overtime in order to provide for your loved ones or those who are around you. So that was my state of mind. — Ace Hood

It's not knowing that's killing me. Not knowing if there's a chance that something can change, not knowing if there's hope at all. — Beth Revis

I had a temper. I got angry easily. But I had made myself learn how to control it. I had decided early on that I wasn't going to let that emotion define me. I wanted to be better. I wanted to be a good person. I wanted to be someone - not necessarily someone great or someone important - but someone I could live with. — Mariana Zapata

I don't know when pepper mills in a restaurant got to be right behind frankincense and myrrh in prominence. It used to be in a little jar that sat next to the salt on the table and everyone passed it around, sneezed, and it was no big deal. — Erma Bombeck

I ran my first race the end of March, 1976. And less than four months later I was Olympic champion. But I had the background. It's not like I just ran one day and all of a sudden became a champion. It was a lot of work. — Edwin Moses

Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers. — Ray Bradbury

If we can cultivate a concern for others, keeping in mind the oneness of humanity, we can build a more compassionate world. — Dalai Lama

In life we meet many people. some people remain in touch and some contacts are dumped in recycle bin of mind. we expect somethings from people in our life but sometimes those expectations remain unnoticed and incomplete. getting depressed in such condition is natural but if we try we can minimize this amount off hearty hurt. — Auliq Ice

The more one delves into Rumi's life and his mystical poetry it becomes clear that for him, the issue of faith and reason is incomplete unless one includes the central theme of love. — Rumi

I've found there to be a tremendous amount of East Coast snobbery in the journalism world. — Diane Lane

When I was a young actor, in my first apartment, the first thing I bought was a Steinway piano. There was no bed at first. I slept on the floor. — Maximilian Schell

He played with the idea, and grew wilful; tossed it into the air and transformed it; let it escape and recaptured it; made it iridescent with fancy, and winged it with paradox. The praise of folly, as he went on, soared into a philosophy, and Philosophy herself became young, and catching the mad music of Pleasure, wearing, one might fancy, her wine-stained robe and wreath of ivy, danced like a bacchante over the hills of life, and mocked the slow Silenus for being sober. Facts fled before her like frightened forest things. Her white feet trod the huge press at which wise Omar sits, till the seething grape-juice rose round her bare limbs in waves of purple bubbles, or crawled in red foam over the vat's black, dripping, sloping sides. — Oscar Wilde

Homeopaths argue that water has a memory. — Scarlett Thomas

So, after awhile, you can only get so much happiness from a guy who's drunk come up and tell you you're great. — Rick Derringer

Four years ago the clocks started turning back. I open my eyes and see nothing. I feel nothing below or above me. I feel the absence of things. The absence of my flesh, my bones, my body, my mind. All that is left is awareness. I see nothing but the absence of colour. It's not a black darkness. It's simply nothing. The interior of a black hole. I recall news of a black hole lingering along the edges of our solar system. All that time ago. Four years ago. When the clocks started turning back. I hear nothing. Until there is a something. A small thing. A voice. I listen. There are more voices. The sounds are human. How long has it been since I've heard a human? The sounds scratch along my now present attention. They carve into my hearing. They are horrid, wretched things. Voices screaming. Growing loud and desperate. How many voices? Billions. This is the birth of our species. We are born screaming. It's all we know to do. We have screamed for eternity. Within this empty space. — F.K. Preston

After the fierce midsummer all ablaze
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires
In the intensity of its own fires,
There come the mellow, mild, St. Martin days
Crowned with the calm of peace, but sad with haze.
So after Love has led us, till he tires
Of his own throes, and torments, and desires,
Comes large-eyed friendship: with a restful gaze,
He beckons us to follow, and across
Cool verdant vales we wander free from care.
Is it a touch of frost lies in the air?
Why are we haunted with a sense of loss?
We do not wish the pain back, or the heat;
And yet, and yet, these days are incomplete. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox