Leiloport Quotes & Sayings

I am acquainted with no immaterial sensuality so delightful as good acting. — Lord Byron

My number one goal was to always have to opportunity to have an international business of some sort, opening in Paris, opening in Tokyo, opening in Singapore for example, that was always my dream, and so it came about. — David Myers

Listen, and you will realize that we are made not from cells or from atoms. We are made from stories. — Mia Couto

Keep your own list, or get an account with an email newsletter company like MailChimp and put a little sign-up widget on every page of your website. — Austin Kleon

If all of us make peace as a purpose of our life, how could there be war? — Debasish Mridha

The Yellow River causes a hundred calamities but enriches all it touches — Jiang Rong

Murtaugh went on. "Vernon Lochan survived, but only because he was already the king's puppet, after Cal was executed, Vernon seized his brother's mantle as Lord of Perranth. You know what happened to Lady Marion. But we never learned what happened to Elide." Elide - Lord Cal and Lady Marion's daughter and heir, almost a year younger than Aelin. If she were alive, she would be at least seventeen by now. "Lots of children vanished in the initial weeks," Murtaugh finished. Aedion didn't want to think about those too-small graves. — Sarah J. Maas

What separates those who achieve from those who do not is in direct proportion to one's ability to ask for help. — Donald Keough

For a moment Ethan simply stares. Before him is the monster of his nightmares: his sister's murderer, the beast who robbed him of his greatest love. How easy, how fulfilling would it be to take Marduk's life? But the arrow in Ethan's fingers slips to the ground.
"No. even revenge is too great an honor for you."
As the night falls and brings an end to this long day of darkness, Marduk inhales his last staggered breath and his body turns to stone. — Marianne Curley

Desford said abruptly: "How old are you, my child? Sixteen? Seventeen?"
"Oh, no, I am much older than that!" she replied. "I'm as old as Lucasta - all but a few weeks!"
"Then why are you not downstairs dancing with the rest of them?" he demanded. "You must surely be out!"
"No, I'm not," she said. "I don't suppose I ever shall be, either. Unless my papa turns out not to be dead, and comes home to take care of me himself. But I don't think that at all likely, and even if he did come home it wouldn't be of the least use, because he seems never to have sixpence to scratch with. I am afraid he is not a very respectable person. My aunt says he was obliged to go abroad on account of being monstrously in debt." She sighed, and said wistfully: "I know that one ought not to criticize one's father, but I can't help feeling that it was just a little thoughtless of him to abandon me. — Georgette Heyer

Democracy means that when there's a knock in the door at 3 am, it's probably the milkman. — Winston Churchill

The final match-up of the round was by far the most satisfying for Rezkin. It was against the mace wielding Sandman who had murdered the young stave-master. The beast had already attempted to end the life of another competitor that morning. Dark Tidings did not even give the man a chance to put on a show. As soon as the announcer finished speaking, he drew the black blade, strode forward with purpose and disarmed the man, literally. After losing both appendages, the brute fell to his knees in shock. While the healers were running to treat the man before he bled out, Dark Tidings stood over the Sandman and said, 'Bracken Freedon of the Isle of Sand. You have been judged and found guilty. Bring nigh to thee, King's Dark Tidings.' The black blade came down in one fell swoop and took the man's head clean from his body. Green lighting crackled within the black swords length... — Kel Kade

Writing a book is a long and difficult process for me. I'm a slow writer, so I spend the year with Elvis Cole and Joe Pike in my head. I was thinking about this the other day. I wrote the first book in 1987. Literally every day since that time, Elvis and Joe have been in my head. They're always there. I started these guys because I like them. — Robert Crais

The writing of poetry is a chancy business, it's currency solitude and loss, its tools coffee and too much wine, its hours midnight, dawn, and dusk, and unlike other trade the hours asleep are not time off. — Keith Miller