Navbharathindipaper Quotes & Sayings

Me and Janet really are two different people. — Michael Jackson

I always enjoy animal acts. — Calvin Coolidge

Syldor was not a land of oppressive rules, roles, and labels. Here, love and power were open to, for, and between all; woman or man, rich or poor. What mattered was the sharpness of your mind, the speed of your blade, and the heat of your touch. — Natalia Marx

On the summits of these heights I found shells such as are picked up at the seaside. The Indians accounted for their appearance there by saying that once a great sea rolled over the face of the country and only one man in a boat escaped with his family. He had sailed about in the boat until the waters retired to their place, and, living there, became the father of all Indians. — Fanny Kelly

There are as many burning guitars, as there are burning doves. — Weasel

Clothes, when abstracted from the flow of present time and their transmogrifying function on the human body, and seen as forms in themselves, are strange tubes and excrescences worthy of being classed with such facial decorations as the ring through the nose or the lip-stretching disk. But how enchanting they become when seen together
with the qualities they bestow on their wearer! What happens then is no less than the infusion, into some tangled lines on a piece of paper, of the meaning of a great word. — Robert Musil

I wish I were with some of the wild people that run in the woods, and know nothing about accomplishments! — Joanna Baillie

I think she loves him," Lissa said. "And love is needing someone.
Love is putting up with someone's
bad qualities because they somehow complete you."
"Love is an excuse to put up with shit that you shouldn't," I replied, — Sarah Dessen

She hadn't moved in the last hour and I was starting to think that she had died and I just hadn't noticed.

That made mea bad boyfriend, didn't it? — Anonymous

She had found a jewel down inside herself and she had wanted to walk where people could see her and gleam it around. But she had been set in the market-place to sell. Been set for still bait. When God had made The Man, he made him out of stuff that sung all the time and glittered all over. Then after that some angels got jealous and chopped him into millions of pieces, but still he glittered and hummed. So they beat him down to nothing but sparks but each little spark had a shine and a song. So they covered each one over with mud. And the lonesomeness in the sparks made them hunt for one another, but the mud is deaf and dumb. Like all the other tumbling mud-balls, Janie had tried to show her shine. — Zora Neale Hurston