Muridae Quotes & Sayings

And the venality of those Judaized is incapable of explaining anti-Semitism as a social phenomenon, we will call it the anti-Semitic theory. — A. C. Cuza

Hardly anyone today thinks about sex. We joke about it, dream about it, watch movies about it, listen to music about it, lust about it. But we don't ever really think about it. — Jason Evert

"I'll carry him. We can't leave drag marks or anything, and we'll need to bury him right away, so no dogs find him."
"Bury who?" said a voice beside me.
I jumped so high, my heart rammed into my throat.
"Chloe?" Derek said again.
"It's L-Liam. His ghost."
Liam stopped. "Ghost?" He looked at me, then at his body, on the ground. He swore. — Kelley Armstrong

But at [soccer] tournaments you tend to see novel, unanticipated trends coming through, with everyone watching each other like hawks and immediately copying anything new. What is really important for every team is to be aware of its own capabilities and find a style which plays to one's own strengths. — Michael Ballack

I settled the bucket where Syrah could reach and watched her siphon out a trunkful. Gideon leaned in, his strong hands stroking her flank, telling her what a good girl she was. I wished he would touch me like that. The thought came so fast that I fell back on my heels. "I have to - I have to go check on Jenna," I stammered. — Jodi Picoult

He led me out of that tangle of alleys in another direction, it seems, for when we sighted a lamp-post we were in a half-familiar street with monotonous rows of mingled tenement blocks and old houses. Charter Street, it turned out to be, but I was too flustered to notice just where we hit — H.P. Lovecraft

The ultimate priority of humanity should not be to savour the power given to us, but rather to account for the according responsibility. — Christian Harrison

I was eleven when my father left, so neither of us really knew our fathers. I'd met mine of course, but then I only knew my dad as a child knows a parent, as a sort of crude outline filled in with one or two colors. I'd never seen my father scared or cry. I'd never heard him admit to any wrongdoing. I have no idea what he dreamed of. And once I'd seen a smile pinned to one cheek and darkness to the other when my mum had yelled at him. Now he was gone, and I was left with just an impression - one of male warmth, big arms, and loud laughter. — Lloyd Jones

Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?
On death — John Keats

The music lets me see the story but the story doesn't let me write the words. — Elizabeth J. Kolodziej