Lantidote Li Ge Quotes & Sayings

One flub, one little mistake, could ruin everything. — Embee

Go. Think. Turn black into white.
Night into day. I am tired of thinking.
I know where it will lead me and I don't
Want to be there.
Go love. Do your thinking. — Walter Dean Myers

Isn't there ever any getting away from it? — Stephen King

She smiled for the first time, and he almost had to look away, as if something that nice didn't belong in such a glum and gray place, as if he had no right to look at her expression. — James Dashner

It's very important that I'm approaching a character that I've either not played before, or I can give it a different take. — Michelle Yeoh

I just go with the flow, I follow the yellow brick road. I don't know where it's going to lead me, but I follow it. — Grace Jones

When a painting I'm working on becomes my singular focus - when I am "in the zone," as I've heard people put it - a trancelike state will sometimes overtake me. — Wally Lamb

As for old age, embrace and love it. It abounds with pleasure if you know how to use it. The gradually declining years are among the sweetest in a man's life, and I maintain that, even when they have reached the extreme limit, they have their pleasure still. — Seneca The Younger

Dorian said, "So here we are." "The end of the road," Aelin said with a half smile. "No," Chaol said, his own smile faint, tentative. "The beginning of the next. — Sarah J. Maas

You drive, walk, eat, look at television, read, and all the while, beyond you and the cozy circle created by your lady around herself and you, like the natural emanations of stars, other lives circle yours, seeds still winged and wind-borne, looking for sympathetic soil. You feel the juices and solids of your body in attempted rearrangement, or, more disturbing, making an effort to create a stillness that approximates death, beyond which the body does become soil, receptive to all wind-borne seeds. In a not especially prolonged stillness, as though no chances could be taken that you might decide to become perpetual motion, words fall out of the air, a random fall from which you might be tempted to make selection, and as you do not move, cannot, a string of words falls onto you, and from you, onto the paper: winter rye greening up, smoothing the old brown earth with a fine new plane: Carpenter Rye, neighbor. — Coleman Dowell

I know now, just quite how
My life and love might still go on
In your heart, in your mind
I'll stay with you for all of time. — The Calling

I wore miniskirts in the days when no fat girls should have, and with total delight. — Maeve Binchy