Jesyka Noelle Quotes & Sayings

Perhaps I was always intensely curious, but my Columbia education gave me a framework and a perspective to investigate new things - things that could be put into a historical and philosophical lineage. — Daniel S. Loeb

Books are messengers of freedom. They can be hidden under a mattress or smuggled into slave nations. — Daniel J. Boorstin

The walls are everywhere. Limits. You're not smart enough, not rich enough. You get tired. You die. Some people like to pretend they've broken out. That they're running free. But there's no escape. You have to find a way to live within the walls. And then, they don't matter. — James Patrick Kelly

America is a new kind of society that produces a new kind of human being. That human being - confident, self-reliant, tolerant, generous, future-oriented - is a vast improvement over the wretched, servile, fatalistic and intolerant human being that traditional societies have always produced. — Dinesh D'Souza

I get a fair amount of time between projects, which is great. It takes me awhile to start getting nervous about getting another job again. I don't mind having a lot of down time. I'm pretty lazy. So I really don't mind it. But I'm lucky; I work fairly steadily. I'm lucky that I've managed to do that. — Paul Giamatti

It's pure Black Label. It's about violence and booze. That's all it is. There is no plan. — Zakk Wylde

Every novel presents a slice of life. A noir policier for example presents one slice, one that perhaps addresses social dysfunction or some sort of pathology, while mine present a slice that is more upbeat and affirmative. — Alexander McCall Smith

I readied myself for the great effort of speaking with the throat-and-belly instead of the mind-and-heart. It is altogether a different skill. — Catherynne M Valente

For getting a fine flourishing growth of stupidity there is nothing like pouring out on a mind a good amount of subjects in which it feels no interest. — George Eliot

I'm sad now, the way we're talking is infinitely sad: faded music, faded paper flowers, worn satin, an echo of an echo. All gone away, no longer possible. — Margaret Atwood