Memarian Webster Quotes & Sayings

Join me in Olympic Heros for Abstinence. The best sex is no sex. — Kurt Angle

Glance at the sun. See the moon and stars. Gaze at the beauty of the green earth. Now think. — Hildegard Of Bingen

Dare to imagine. Dare to be.
Books are the seeds. Dreams are the soil.
The fruit of the harvest, a world reborn. — Richelle E. Goodrich

The more the wicked abound, so much the more must we suffer with them in patience; for on the threshing floor few are the grains carried into the barns, but high are the piles of chaff burned with fire. — Pope Gregory I

Your past - It's not a series of mistakes, love. It's just you. All the things that happened to you that made you who you are. — Ruthie Knox

A number of women have reportedly been victims of what appear to be discriminatory decisions taken by Sharia councils, and that is a significant concern. — Theresa May

Life is the courier of the universal brilliance. Elysse — Elysse Poetis

Sometimes you want to say things, and you're missing an idea to make them with, and missing a word to make the idea with. In the beginning was the word. That's how somebody tried to explain it once. Until something is named, it doesn't exist. — Samuel R. Delany

The timing of Thomas Lewis' illness suggests one chilling alternative history. The Broad Street outbreak had subsided in part because the only viable route between the well and the neighborhood's small intestines had run through the cesspool at 40 Broad. When baby Lewis died, the connection had died with it. But when her husband fell ill, Sarah Lewis began emptying the buckets of soiled water in the cesspool all over again. If Snow had not persuaded the Board of Governors to remove the handle when he did, the disease might have torn through the neighborhood all over again, the well water restocked with a fresh supply of V. cholerae. And so Snow's intervention did not just help bring the outbreak to a close. It also prevented a second attack. — Steven Johnson

As though eavesdropping, the whistling wind refuses to speak above a whisper. The winding road is cut into the side of the mountain in such a way that it seems they are not making any progress; the walk down will require endurance. She looks up at the cluster of clouds which have been pencilled in neatly against the sky, and hopes it doesn't rain. It occurs rapidly, a geisha brusquely folding shut her fan; the sun sets, and brilliant darkness replaces light. — Curtis Ackie