Monseau Quotes & Sayings

If you don't like my announcing, you don't like me. — Johnny Miller

It's okay for my Beliebers to have a boyfriend, but please don't kiss them in front of me because I get jealous. — Justin Bieber

Come live, and be merry, and join with me, To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha ha he! — William Blake

The only way you can truly get to know an author is through the trail of ink he leaves behind him. The person you think you see is only an empty character: truth is always hidden in fiction. — Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Life happens whether we are ready or not - the only choice or control we have is whether or not we will rise to meet its challenges. — Robyn Peterman

In the four hundred years since the last devouring soul appeared; the last man to know the meaning of ecstasy, there has been a constant and steady decline of man in art, in thought, in action. The world is pooped out: there isn't a dry fart left. — Henry Miller

Modern fiction brings out the evil in domestic lives, ordinary relations, people like you and me -- Reader! Bruder! as Humbert said. Evil in Austen, as in most great fiction, lies in the inability to "see" others, hence to empathize with them. What is frightening is that this blindness can exist in the best of us (Eliza Bennet) as well as the worst (Humbert). We are all capable of becoming the blind censor, or imposing our visions and desires on others. — Azar Nafisi

Hip-hop ain't died because of the South, that's retarded. — Nas

The eventual place the American army should take on the western front was to a large extent influenced by the vital question of communication and supply. — Kelly Miller

The time we waste is equal to the distance between ourselves and the iron rod. — Kimberly Jo Smith

She must rest for a moment. And, resting, looking from one to the other vaguely, the old question which traversed the sky of the soul perpetually, the vast, the general question which was apt to particularise itself at such moments as these, when she released faculties that had been to the strain, stood over her, paused over her, darkened over her. What is the meaning of life? That was all - a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. — Virginia Woolf