Merdeka 2014 Quotes & Sayings

Do you know what the definition of insane is? Yes. It's the inability to relate to another human being. It's the inability to love. — Richard Yates

Whatever is produced in haste goes hastily to waste. — Saadi

Seventeen times against the wall or in the barn: You move or scream or say anything I will kill them all. In front of you. First I will torture them and then I will kill them. Her eyes as dead as she can make them. Her arms as limp as she can make them. Her heart as hidden as she can make it. A soldier's cock entering the thin white flesh of a girl, into the small red cave of her, the fist of her heart pounding out be-dead, be-dead, be-dead.
Counting. — Lidia Yuknavitch

If the mountain remains standing, it is useless to pray endlessly. God is waiting for you to do something yourself. — Sunday Adelaja

Sometimes people will think, I need to have pre-sanctioned spiritual joy. Getting joy from my contemplative meditation practice or getting joy from reading Thich Nhat Hahn books. Those things can be joyful but I think it's the small, simple joys of playing with dogs or having sex with someone you love or going for a walk outside, stuff that we tend to ignore. — Moby

[Dona Queta] says that her motherly advice is always the same: 'Only whores, thieves, and cops go out at night. Which one are you, asshole?' p. 157 — Daniel Hernandez

The most important resources you will ever have are your mind and your mind-set. You must protect them at all costs. — Randy Gage

A piece of paper makes you an officer, a radio makes you a commander. — Omar N. Bradley

We call him Felix. Doesn't hold with titles, do you, Viscount?"
"A luxury only the titled can afford, I'm sure," said Sophronia.
"Don't worry, Ria," a molasses voice whispered near her ear. "You will call me Felix, regardless."
A fan snapped down between them. "None of that! No vampire would ever be so intimate!" Lady Linette did not hold with obvious flirting.
Flirting, yes, but not obvious flirting. — Gail Carriger

As he strode through the deserted city, he thought of the New Years of his childhood, before he was ten, before the Change, when the city had still glowed with the soft, deep enchantment of sugared angels spreading their sparkling wings in bakery windows, and bells whose limpid sounds rose like the sea at a moonlit tide, and glass ornaments turning slowly this way and that on dark tree branches, gathering in their reflections the whole wondrous, promise-filled world. — Olga Grushin