Ludovicus Wine Quotes & Sayings

Your first reaction is the characteristic one of your contrasuggestible century: to disbelieve, to disprove. I see this very clearly underneath your politeness. — John Fowles

Life is not that complicated. — George Carlin

I suspect most of life takes place in the interstices of what's already been articulated. — Samuel R. Delany

You can't tag,remember? Which makes me the other half of our fabulous bagging-and-tagging duo. — Kiersten White

From the moment he took office in January of 1961, Kennedy had been eager to settle the Cuban problem without overt military action by the United States. — Robert Dallek

It was a kingdom of dreams - a place where things would be just the way I wanted them to be. — Judith McNaught

My father was sleepless most of his life. So by the age of five, I was awake with him all night long, watching bad television or we'd lie in the same bed, and I'd read my comic books while he read his latest spy or mystery novel. — Sherman Alexie

I know plenty of dances. My favorite is called Not Getting Your Legs Broken for Stealing Figs from That Baker on Pearl Lane." "That's sure to charm the princess right into a wedding pact. — Jessica Khoury

I had to call in because I do believe, I know of cases, it is happening that some of these kids that weren't born here but they've lived here all their lives, they are being deported. And I also know of cases where the kids are born here, they're American citizens, they're put in foster homes and their parents are deported, and their parents are begging to get their kids back. That actually is happening. — Rush Limbaugh

Like the Phoenix, we can observe in our own lives that disintegration brings with it transformation and rebirth. — Donna Labermeier

Happiness was happiness wherever you found it. — Kim Harrison

Madame was in her room upstairs. She wore an open dressing gown that showed between the shawl facings of her bodice a pleated chamisette with three gold buttons. Her belt was a corded girdle with great tassels, and her small garnet coloured slippers had a large knot of ribbon that fell over her instep. She had bought herself a blotting book, writing case, pen-holder, and envelopes, although she had no one to write to; she dusted her what-not, looked at herself in the glass, picked up a book, and then, dreaming between the lines, let it drop on her knees. She longed to travel or to go back to her convent. She wished at the same time to die and to live in Paris. — Gustave Flaubert