Kitchen Chalkboard Quotes & Sayings

There are so many things in this world. If we put it in short (succinctly), then what will remain? The 'pure Soul' and 'circumstances'. Moreover, to disperse is the nature of circumstances. Therefore, the Pure Soul will not have to tell them to go away. — Dada Bhagwan

I don't believe in statistics. There are too many factors that can't be measured. You can't measure a ballplayer's heart. — Red Auerbach

One form of prayer moves us particularly to take up the task of evangelization and to seek the good of others: it is the prayer of intercession. Let us peer for a moment into the heart of Saint Paul, to see what his prayer was like. It was full of people: " ... I constantly pray with you in every one of my prayers for all of you ... because I hold you in my heart" (Phil 1:4, 7). Here we see that intercessory prayer does not divert us from true contemplation, since authentic contemplation always has a place for others. — Pope Francis

People recognize me wherever I go, where it used to be just New York. I guess people who aren't even baseball fans watch the World Series. I was driving down the freeway in Los Angeles over the winter and a guy pulled up next to me and gave me the finger. — Graig Nettles

These truth-seeking students gathered at a local pub on the campus of King's College, called the White Horse Inn, to debate the ideas of Luther. — Steven J. Lawson

I write stuff down. I have a chalkboard in the kitchen where I will scrawl stuff down if I have a faint outline of an idea. And I'll go into my office or whatever. But that goes from format to format. — John Darnielle

Cheap people are expensive. — Okisha Jackson

Calms appear, when Storms are past;
Love will have his Hour at last:
Nature is my kindly Care;
Mars destroys, and I repair;
Take me, take me, while you may,
Venus comes not ev'ry Day. — John Dryden

What a concentration of images in Pasternak's swallow's nest! And, in reality, why should we stop building and molding the world's clay about our own shelters? Mankind's nest, like his world, is never finished. And imagination helps us to continue it. A poet cannot leave such a great image as this, nor, to be more exact, can such an image leave its poet. Boris Pasternak also wrote Man himself is mute, and it is the image that speaks. For it is obvious that the image alone can keep pace with nature. — Gaston Bachelard

Tell me have you ever wanted someone so much it hurts?
Your lips keep trying to speak, but you just can't find the words.
Well I had this dream once, I held it in my hand ...
You had me dim the lights, you danced just like a child.
The wine spilled on your dress and all you did was smile.
Yeah, it was perfect.
I hold it in my mind.
When we owned the night. — Lady Antebellum

If you have to control people, you have to have an administrative force that does it. So in U.S. industry, even more than elsewhere, there's layer after layer of management - a kind of economic waste, but useful for control and domination. And the same is true in universities. — Noam Chomsky

It's a big part of my life, listening to music and watching TV. — Andrew Flintoff

For the next two weeks, the world and all other issues would be omitted. We were two people alone in a hospital room. We allowed no visitors. We had two weeks of near-silence with each other and my increasing helplessness. I tended to tangle the IV and misplace the oxygen tube. As I started to say earlier, I could feel no sensible interest in the future. The moments became extraordinarily dimensionless - not without value but flat and a great deal emptier. When you learn you're fatally ill, time becomes very confusing, perhaps uninteresting, pedestrian. But my not caring if I lived or died hurt Ellen. And I was grateful that I could indulge my cowardice toward death in terms of living for her. — Harold Brodkey

Stars flicker above, points of bright ice in a dark river. I pull a heavy sheepskin around my legs and stretch my feet toward the fire. Despite the cold, Liam plays his flute, the sound whistling through the night. Soon my eyes are heavy, my head nodding.I open my eyes at the deep melodious baritone of Salvius's voice telling a tale. Liam's flute is silent now. I have heard Salvius tell many tales on market days; he is known for his memory of wandering minstrels and mummers who visit us at Whitsunday and through Midsummer. Salvius is a mockingbird: he can give a fair charade of the rhythmic tones of any wandering bard or any noble of the Royal Court.In this darkness, his eyes catch the light like a cat in the night. — Ned Hayes

Listen to me," he said, "do you really think women are the flower of life? You know, you can get fed up with them after a while ... All they do is stop you achieving anything serious. — Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn