Olakoglu Magaza Quotes & Sayings

The poets are a harmless little folk, with their dreams and raptures and heaven full of Greek gods that they carry about with them in their fantasy. But they become wicked as soon as they presume to hold their ideal up to reality and then flail the latter angrily, when they should have nothing at all to do with it. They would, nevertheless, remain harmless if they were only granted their free little place in reality un disturbed and not compelled through crowding and pressure to cast a backward glance at it, for it reaches beyond the clouds, and they themselves cannot survey it all and must cling to the stars as provisory border points, of which, however, who knows how many are yet today invisible, their light still in the process of journeying down to us. — Ernst August Friedrich Klingemann

Surround yourself with people who provide you with support and love and remember to give back as much as you can in return. — Karen Kain

Ugh. A club for Prodigium? That conjured up images of way more velvet and dry ice and angst than I was up for. — Rachel Hawkins

Crazy, batty Maud," Lita teased, wiping her nose across her sleeve and staring at Mally wickedly. "Ooooh, be careful, she might cut off your hair! She'll bargain for your fingernails! — M.L. LeGette

They were the kind of couple you rolled your eyes at. The couple you wanted to punch square in their perfect noses, but secretly hoped would become your new best friends and invite you to a private dinner party where you'd eat something made with truffle oil and share a rueful laugh about the party scene in Ibiza. — Matt K. Turner

I left this morning saying 'I love you'
as if setting out for some unknown country
instead of the corner shop. I wanted
you to be sure, in case
this time - out of, say, 10,000 departures
I never made it back: although
after 50 years together, 2 countries,
3 children, and several former journeys
that would put this one to shame
you'd think there'd be no need to pause
on my own doorstep, suddenly afraid
of the distance between us, of your absolute beauty,
of the growing aloneness when I clicked the latch. — Peter Bland