Money Saving Expert Quotes & Sayings

When someone from Faerie ever tells you something, you can see it - you can feel it - you believe it. For the true value of enchantment and its glamour, is in the imparting of a truth - by truth's own persuasion it makes itself real. — Gabriel Brunsdon

May the magic within you shine through! — Penny Ross

There was another reason [she] took her books whenever they went away. They were her home when she was somewhere strange. They were familiar voices, friends that never quarreled with her, clever, powerful friends
daring and knowledgeable, tried and tested adventurers who had traveled far and wide. Her books cheered her up when she was sad and kept her from being bored. — Cornelia Funke

Ceremonies are the outworks of manners. — Lord Chesterfield

Even in rainier areas, where dust is less inexorable and submits to brooms and rags, it is generally detested, because dust is not organized and is therefore considered aesthetically bankrupt. Our light is not kind to faint diffuse spreading things. Our soft comfortable light flatters carefully organized, formally structured things like wedding cakes with their scrolls and overlapping flounces.
It takes the mortal storms of a star to transform dust into something incandescent. Our dust, shambling and subtractive as it is, would be radiant, if we were close enough to such a star, to that deep and dangerous light, and we would be ravished by the vision - emerald shreds veined in gold, diamond bursts fraught with deep-red flashes, aqua and violet and icy-green astral manifestations, splintery blinking harbor of light, dust as it can be, the quintessence of dust. — Amy Leach

Most believe that a satisfactory future requires a return to an idealized past, a past which never in fact existed. — Frank Herbert

Without doubt, it is a delightful harmony when doing and saying go together. — Michel De Montaigne

Strychnine is a grand tonic, Kemp, to take the flabbiness out of a man. — H.G.Wells

When the human voice is reduced to being no longer a song, a word, or a cry, but the articulation of the unnamable itself, it is natural that there should be no other sound than the grinding of ice in the polar regions, the light, intermittent crackling of silk in the highest zones of the atmosphere, at the moment when the aurora borealis unfurls its strange, cold spangles. Majesty does not tolerate other eyes than these hard crystals — Michel Leiris