Libidomania 1979 Quotes & Sayings

3 Because your x steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. 4 So I will bless you y as long as I live; — Anonymous

We stand todaybefore the awful proposition: either the triumph of imperialism and the destruction of all culture, and, as in ancient Rome, depopulation, desolation, degeneration, a vast cemetery; or, the victory of socialism. — Rosa Luxemburg

Unfortunately, most of the songs that I write I don't write them with guitar in mind. I just write it as a song and that was probably one of the ones that left an opening for it. The song's all right, I wouldn't choose to sing it now. — Roy Wood

He opened the front door and Gwen said, "Lock?"
He stopped immediately. "Yeah?" Did he have to sound so eager when he was the one making the decision to go? Damn him! "Uh ... could you leave him here? He kind of comes with the place."
Frowning, Lock glanced down. "Oh, jeez!"
Oh, jeez?
"Sorry about that." He immediately dropped the lion he'd dragged from the couch to the door, back to the couch, and back to the door. "Habit. Usually I bat my prey around until they stop fighting and drag them off to the brush to ... well ... you know." He looked down at Mitch. "Sorry about that ... uh ... "
"Mitch," she told him. "Mitch. Right. Sorry about that, Mitch. And nice to meet you. — Shelly Laurenston

In Hollywood - in Hollywood, you're as good as your last picture. — Erich Von Stroheim

I'd grown used to all the voices inside of my head and knew which ones to pay attention to and which ones to ignore. The same went for all the voices outside of my head — Ingrid Law

She wished she could give Isabel a shield, like the ones riot police held, to protect her from male attention, that feeling of being scored each time you walked down a street, the demeaning comments yelled out of cars, that casual sweep of the eyes. — Liane Moriarty

I know I don't want to be Stieg Larsson my whole life. — David Lagercrantz

Religion is all-too-often a refuge for scoundrels. — Neal Boortz

Art is only worth what people will pay for it. Artists do not get paid by the hour. — Jack White

I was also reminded of one of the unique charms of NYC in the summer: vast piles of rotting garbage piled on the sidewalks, with that sweet yet nauseating smell of decomposing groceries sitting in the humid fetid air, and rancid food juices oozing over the sticky sidewalks. With my windows open to counter the stuffiness, I could occasionally catch a whiff of the stench outside. People actually like living in this chaotic, fetid monument to incompetence? Beats me. — Andrew Sullivan