Leela James Quotes & Sayings

It's kind of strange to be in a band for ten years, because you've just given ten years of your lives to it from touring, and you don't know [or] even notice the passing of time. — Ryan Jarman

And you, Sarah Jacobi" - he pointed to a woman with white robes and spiky black hair - "you were sent to Antarctica for causing the tsunami in the Indian Ocean. — Rick Riordan

She's as beautiful as her mother." He lifted his gaze to his wife's. "I'm never gonna touch you again."
Amelia looked at Cordelia. "Will you take her now?" Gingerly, Cordelia wrapped the child within her arms. "I mean it this time," Houston said.
"I know you do," Amelia said as she touched his cheek. — Lorraine Heath

You must keep your mind on the objective, not on the obstacle. — William Randolph Hearst

Self-protection keeps you from love, Mr. Knightley-all love. I am so sad at how I've kept them at a distance-the Muirs, Alex, Father John, Kyle, Hannah ... Anyone and everyone who has ever stood by me. I played God in our relationships. I determined their value by how much I let them in, by how much I let them determine my worth. I'm not God. And I don't need to work so hard anymore ... — Katherine Reay

Then there was the challenge to keep doing better and better, to fly the best test flight that anybody had ever flown. That led to my being recognized as one of the more experienced test pilots, and that led to the astronaut business. — Alan Shepard

Having worked in disasters, I have seen that, in those critical first few hours, those first few days - so much ends up riding on you and your neighbor and whoever is around. The official response always comes later, and it always feels like it comes too slow. — Sheri Fink

[ ... ]you know what they say about messengers, right"?
Excuse me?"
Too much bad news will get you shot."[ ... ] — J.R. Ward

Let me assure you that all of our pets, and animals of every kind will be with us for eternity on the Other Side. — Sylvia Browne

A trouble - nothing as beautiful as a sorrow - rose to the surface of his mind, displayed its ungainliness and sank. Its precise nature he did not ask himself, for his hour was not yet, but the hint was appalling, and, hero though he was, he longed to be a little boy again, and to stroll half awake for ever by the colourless sea. — E. M. Forster