Joel Osteen Heretical Quotes & Sayings

My biggest fear is expending the best and most exciting energy in sketches, no matter how quickly executed. I often need to empty the rubbish bin several times before regaining the fresh quality of the initial exploratory sketches. — Catherine Stock

Emmitt Smith is someone that I have great respect for - as a player, a competitor and a person. His contributions to the organization and the NFL speak for themselves. — Emmitt Smith

He threw his hands to his eyes and hissed. Like the hiss of incinerating ashes. 'What is this bright, orange orb in the sky that mocks me with its warmth? — Jesikah Sundin

petal." I don't look at it that closely. "That blossom started as a seed," she continues. "It was buried deep in the cold, dark ground. One day when the soil was warm and moist, the little seed split apart and began to climb to a world it could not see. Imagine the courage it had! It did not know what it would find when it broke through the surface. The scorching sun? The gardener's blade? The crushing hoof of a cow? But the seed courageously pushed on so that one day, it could become a beautiful flower." She points a finger at me. "You must have the courage of the seed, Anna. Without it, you will stay buried. You will rot and die. It does not matter how smart you are, or how pretty, or if you have money and many friends. If you do not have courage, you will never blossom into the flower you were meant to be. — William Andrews

If you must use more than ten slides to explain your business, you probably don't have a business. — Guy Kawasaki

When you are 4-0 up you should never lose 7-1. — Lawrie McMenemy

I turn now not to the Bible but to Wallace Stevens — R.S. Thomas

The kiss, dear maid ! thy lip has left

Shall never part from mine,

Till happier hours restore the gift

Untainted back to thine.


Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,

An equal love may see:

The tear that from thine eyelid streams

Can weep no change in me.


I ask no pledge to make me blest

In gazing when alone;

Nor one memorial for a breast,

Whose thoughts are all thine own.


Nor need I write --- to tell the tale

My pen were doubly weak:

Oh ! what can idle words avail,

Unless the heart could speak ?


By day or night, in weal or woe,

That heart, no longer free,

Must bear the love it cannot show,

And silent ache for thee. — George Gordon Byron