Ninas Calientes Quotes & Sayings

The sky calls to us. If we do not destroy ourselves, we will one day venture to the stars. — Carl Sagan

I see myself and many artists like me as the torchbearers through these dark ages. — John Zorn

Where does personality end and brain damage begin? — Douglas Coupland

But people can't, unhappily, invent their mooring posts, their lovers and their friends, anymore than they can invent their parents. Life gives these and also takes them away and the great difficulty is to say Yes to life. I — James Baldwin

It is because everything must come to an end that everything is so beautiful. — Charles-Ferdinand Ramuz

I'm tired of being responsible for other people's misery. I can't even put up with my own. — Katja Millay

It would be wonderful to become what Oprah has become: she is in such a class of her own, as an entrepreneur, as a performer and an icon. The idea of building a series of programmes and choosing people that I think have talent to do them would be a very interesting idea. I would love to show that television can have soul, depth and range. — Charlie Rose

He rubbed the side of his face on the pillow. "Mmmmsoft," he remarked, then added, "One's your fault. The other one, you just happen to be there when it happens. Like, when you kiss him, POW, he gets hit by a bear. Totally not your fault. You shouldn't feel bad about that. It's not your bear. — Maggie Stiefvater

I loved this place when I was a kid. I still love it, but when I was a kid I'd take the bus down here and spend all day long reading in this room. — Caitlin R. Kiernan

I wanted a Gibson type sound, but with a Strat vibrato ... I bought a body from Charvel for $50.00 and a neck for $80.00 - I slapped it together, put an old Gibson PAF in it and painted it up with the stripes — Eddie Van Halen

August is dust here. Drought
stuns the road,
but juice gathers in the berries. — Robert Hass

We begin as children imagining and fearing ghosts. By degrees, through our long lives, we come to be the very ghosts inhabiting the lost landscapes of our childhood. — Joyce Carol Oates