Mielitis Quotes & Sayings

The Prime Minister wins debate after debate and loses battle after battle. The country is beginning to say that he fights debates like a war and the war like a debate. — Aneurin Bevan

Twitter, twatter, fudder, motherfucker, I don't care what it's called. — L. H. Cosway

When we lose these woods, we lose our soul. Not simply as individuals, but as a people. — Kevin Walker

Some persons, instead of making a religion for their God, are content to make a god of their religion. — Arthur Helps

Americans have a severe disease - worse than AIDS. It's called the winner's complex. — Mikhail Gorbachev

We can't allow any war for imperialism or greed to be fought in our names. This is what we need to keep fighting for. — Cindy Sheehan

One of the worst mistakes you can make in golf is trying to force the game. — Jack Nicklaus

In daily life, reality gives us material incentives to restrain our irrationality. But what incentive do we have to think rationally about politics? — Bryan Caplan

My mother and father didn't love each other, so they were always fighting. — Tina Turner

One of the good things about a Catholic church is that it isn't respectable," she had told Richard. "You can find anyone in it, from duchesses to whores, from tramps to kings. — Rumer Godden

There are people starving in the siege, there are children traumatized and terrified. There are men women and children dying. This is a situation that has reached the proportions of a tremendous humanitarian crisis. It is a tragedy and every minute that passes we lose lives and more people are brutalized and traumatized. — Hanan Ashrawi

Blood and death. That moves me. — Ikue Mori

When you're the Woman Upstairs, nobody thinks of you first. Nobody calls you before anyone else, or sends you the first postcard. Once your mother dies, nobody loves you best of all. It's a small thing, you might think; and maybe it depends upon your temperament; maybe for some people it's a small thing. But for me, in that cul-de-sac outside Aunt Baby's, with my father and aunt done dissecting death and shuffling off to bed behind the crimson farmhouse door, preparing for morning mass as blameless as lambs and as lifeless as the slaughtered - I felt forsaken by hope. I felt I'd been seen, and seen clearly, and discarded, dropped back into the undiscriminated pile like a shell upon the shore. — Claire Messud