Leyla Milani Quotes & Sayings

Poor me. There's nothing so sweet as wallowing in it is there? Wallowing is sex for depressives. — Jeanette Winterson

Hey, look, I just regenerated a finger. Guess which one. — Rich Burlew

I'd left behind a thousand tons of marble, I could have released sculptures, I could have released myself from the marble of myself. I'd experienced joy, but not nearly enough, could there be enough? — Jonathan Safran Foer

I have about 100 pairs of pajamas. I like to see people dressed comfortably. — Hugh Hefner

Go ahead, deny up and down that the delicate act of turning the doorknob, that act which may transform everything, is done with the indifferent vigor of a daily reflex. See you later, sweetheart. Have a good day.
Tighten your fingers around a teaspoon, feel its metal pulse, its mistrustful warning. How it hurts to refuse a spoon, to say no to a door, to deny everything that habit has licked to a suitable smoothness. How much simpler to accept the easy request of the spoon, to use it, to stir the coffee. — Julio Cortazar

If a person is determined to fight to the death, then they may very well have that opportunity. — Donald Rumsfeld

The United States, obviously, has a great interest in helping to maintain peace and security in Europe, and we have a formal alliance, NATO, to do so. — Hillary Clinton

I am ... I am constantly moving in the direction of higher evolutionary impulses, creativity, abstraction, and meaning. — Joseph Addison

I disarmed you with my smile?" I called out when he was a few feet from me, raising my eyebrows.
He turned and smirked at me. "You sure did."
"You totally snaked that from a Smashing Pumpkins song," I said, shaking my head.
"The fact that you know that is incredibly sexy."
"I told you, I'm not like most girls. — Monica Alexander

The correctness and quality of what you write do not matter; the act of writing does. — Natalie Goldberg

Make me the the master of education, and I will undertake to change the world. — Gottfried Leibniz

was the living death of his own soul that troubled him. Basil had painted the portrait that had marred his — Oscar Wilde