Makulit Na Banat Quotes & Sayings

Even the good angels, I think, would inspire in humans some sort of fear. — Danielle Trussoni

Do a new thing in a new way. Do it always! — Israelmore Ayivor

Thousands of alienated young Muslims, most of them born and bred here but who regard themselves as an army within, are waiting for an opportunity to help to destroy the society that sustains them. — Melanie Phillips

Our chief want is someone who will inspire us to be what we know we could be. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Family is always the most important part. — Ekaterina Gordeeva

Your intentions create your experiences. — Doreen Virtue

No bribes. Nothing that passes under the roof of a temple Or under the roof of the mouth, can appease heaven's anger Or deflect its aim. — Aeschylus

Rolf Ekeus, his appearance can deceive. He looks somewhere between an international diplomat and a mad professor. He's got that sort of shock of white hair and a slightly absent-minded way of speaking. But he's extremely sharp and very serious about power relationships. — Barton Gellman

I attended Amherst College from 1951 to 1955. The first two years were a revelation. There were innumerable exchanges with brilliant classmates, among them the playwright Ralph Allen, the classics scholar Robert Fagles, and the composer Michael Sahl. — Edmund Phelps

A lotta Christians wear crosses 'round their necks; do you think if Jesus comes back he ever wants to see another cross? — Bill Hicks

Erik is not truly dead. He lives on within the souls of those who choose to listen to the music of the night. — Gaston Leroux

It might seem that this knowledge is cold, devoid of emotion, empty. This is another illusion. — Frederick Lenz

God works as long as His people live daringly; He ceases when they no longer need His aid. — Aiden Wilson Tozer

I remember Liz, her face white, delicate as an ash on the wind; her red lips staining the cigarette; her full breasts under the taut black jersey. She said to me, "But think how happy you can make a man someday." Yes, I'm thinking, and so far it's all right. But then I do a flipover and reach out in my mind to E., seeing a baseball game, maybe, perhaps watching television, or roaring with careless laughter at some dirty joke with the boys, beer cans lying about green and shiny gold, and ash trays. I spiral back to me, sitting here, swimming, drowning, sick with longing. I have too much conscience injected in me to break customs without disasterous effects; I can only lean enviously against the boundary and hate, hate, hate the boys who can dispel sexual hunger freely, without misgiving, and be whole, while I drag out from date to date in soggy desire, always unfulfilled. The whole thing sickens me. — Sylvia Plath