Itinerario Turistico Quotes & Sayings

Ingnore your thoughts. As you focus more intensely, you may feel as if you are floating. — Frederick Lenz

You're not the only one who can get possessive. I'm very proprietary about what's mine. — Sylvia Day

Circulating through the children's ward and seeing terminally ill kids, heads shaved, smiling and having a ball despite the tubes and needles sticking into them, I thought: What do I have to worry about? If God takes me, at least I've lived for 35 years. — Eric Davis

And sitting there, sea drifting in around them, Wolf had understood for the first time what kind of life he wanted to live with Faith. Maybe they wouldn't rise up into the sky the way he'd thought, maybe the real thing was doing what his parents had done, pay the rent, read the paper, hell, maybe that was the dare. To live
day in, day out. Just live. — Jennifer Egan

There was need of a phantastic, indestructible optimism, and one far removed from all sense of reality, in order, for example, to discover in the shameful death of Christ really the highest salvation and the redemption of the world. — Carl Jung

I loved being on set when I was younger. — Emma Roberts

People experience conscious will when they interpret their own thought as the cause of their action. — Daniel Wagner

People of peace, men and women of desire, such is the splendor of the Temple in which you will one day have the right to take your place. Such privilege should astonish you less, however, than your ability to commence building it down here, your ability, in fact, to adorn it at every moment of your existence. Remember the saying 'as above, so below', and contribute to this by making 'as below, so above'. — Louis Claude De Saint-Martin

Comedy doesn't makes your IQ higher....

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Read Science... and don't re-read books for higher IQ! — Deyth Banger

witness it when he turned his rage on me, — Elle Kennedy

The past
the wild charge at the head of his men up San Juan Hill; the first years of his marriage when he worked late into the summer dusk down in the busy city for young Hildegarde whom he loved; the days before that when he sat smoking far into the night in the gloomy old Button house on Monroe Street with his grandfather-all these had faded like unsubstantial dreams from his mind as though they had never been. He did not remember. — F Scott Fitzgerald

Satin and lace and brown velvet and the faint odor of violets. That was all which was left to him of his love. — William Maxwell