Kegerator Quotes & Sayings

When we wake, it's officially Christmas Eve."
"Good. Because I have something special to give you."
She turned over her shoulder and cocked an eyebrow. "Thought you just did."
He chuckled, a deep and throaty sound. "Something else. — Lisa Carlisle

According to 'Star Trek' mythos, Starfleet Command - operational headquarters for a flotilla of craft that keep the cosmic peace - is located in San Francisco's Presidio, in the shadow of the Golden Gate Bridge (still carrying traffic, even in the 23rd century). — Seth Shostak

Not long after he moved, the mail carrier got embroiled in a battle with the Middletown government over the flock of chickens that he kept in his yard. He treated them just as Mamaw had treated her chickens back in the holler: Every morning he collected all the eggs, and when his chicken population grew too large, he'd take a few of the old ones, wring their necks, and carve them up for meat right in his backyard. You can just imagine a well-bred housewife watching out the window in horror as her Kentucky-born neighbor slaughtered squawking chickens just a few feet away. My sister and I still call the old mail carrier "the chicken man," and years later even a mention of how the city government ganged up on the chicken man could inspire Mamaw's trademark vitriol: "Fucking zoning laws. They can kiss my ruby-red asshole." The — J.D. Vance

We cannot bear for our most mysterious experiences to remain unexplained. I've therefore learned ... that every story has worth, since a person takes the time to tell it. The key is to listen. — Josh Gates

I think we have to do everything that's useful. We're doctors. Our job is to tell the truth. And it doesn't have to be embellished in any way. — Neal Barnard

The whole meaning of prayer is that we may know God. — Oswald Chambers

She had learned in her girlhood to fondle and cherish those long sinuous phrases of Chopin, so free, so flexible, so tactile, which begin by reaching out and exploring far outside and away from the direction in which they started, far beyond the point which one might have expected their notes to reach, and which divert themselves in those byways of fantasy only to return more deliberately - with a more premeditated reprise, with more precision, as on a crystal bowl that reverberates to the point of making you cry out - to strike at your heart. Brought — Marcel Proust