Ottavio Avocado Quotes & Sayings

But a better remedy is indifference to ourselves, and being happy because the good is good, although we are far from it and may even suppose that we are destined to remain separated from it forever. — Simone Weil

Widely distributed reports have noted in January 1968, Obama was registered as a Muslim at Jakarta's Roman Catholic Franciscus Assisi Primary School under the name Barry Soetoro. — Aaron Klein

Science is a very human form of knowledge. We are always at the brink of the known; we always feel forward for what is to be hoped. Every judgment in science stands on the edge of error and is personal. Science is a tribute to what we can know although we are fallible. — Jacob Bronowski

You don't write what you know, or you would write one thing. I never understood that. You write what you want to find out. — Nora Roberts

The world is filled with folly and sin, And Love must cling, where it can, I say: For Beauty is easy enough to win; But one isn't loved every day — Robert Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Earl Of Lytton

I'm not supposed to miss you, I'm not supposed to care — Deborah Cox

Charlotte came in herself, like a big bridal edifice in her veil and other lace, carrying long-stemmed flowers. With her there wasn't much hiding of the behind-the-scenes of life to keep a man in the bonds of love, as Lucretius advises when he tells you to make allowances for mortality. You only had to see her practical mouth to know everything about mortality was admitted in advance, though she did for form's sake all that other women do. Her frankness gave her a kind of nobility. — Saul Bellow

I just don't like the word 'fun'
it's like Volkswagen, or bell-bottoms, or patchouli-oil or bean-sprouts ... it rubs me up the wrong way. — Tom Waits

All men must swallow the sour with the sweet. — George R R Martin

You can't be afraid until you have no other option but to be afraid. — Nile Rodgers

Days and nights passed over this despair of flesh, but one morning he awoke, looked (with calm now) at the blurred things that lay about him, and felt, inexplicably, the way one might feel upon recognizing a melody or a voice, that all this had happened to him before and that he had faced it with fear but also with joy and hopefulness and curiosity. Then he descended into his memory, which seemed to him endless, and managed to draw up from that vertigo the lost remembrance that gleamed like a coin in the rain - perhaps because he had never really looked at it except (perhaps) in a dream. — Jorge Luis Borges