Painted Veil Best Quotes & Sayings

Here she was, being rescued by a socialist, feminist, lesbian, baby-killing, foreign terrorist. What would the ladies in the sewing circle say to that? — Hillary Jordan

To embrace humanism is to embrace the concept that caring for our fellow human beings is our highest calling. — Sean Faircloth

I describe myself as a member of the Church of England, which I suppose is an inoffensive way of saying that you don't believe in anything very much — William Somerset Maugham

The painted veil which those who live call life — W. Somerset Maugham

I always find it more difficult to say the things I mean than the things I don't. — W. Somerset Maugham

Everything passed, and what trace of its passage remained? It seemed to Kitty that they were all, the human race, like the drops of water in that river and they flowed on, each so close to the other and yet so far apart, a nameless flood, to the sea. — W. Somerset Maugham

I'm pretty much a 9-to-5 kind of guy. I usually get to work about 8 in the morning, and I work until 4 or 5, and sometimes I work on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Pretty much I keep the same hours as an accountant or clerk or whatever. — Douglas Preston

I tried to freshen up a room, so I held a Certs in front of a fan. — Mitch Hedberg

He is at home with his solitude as the note reverberating inside a bell. — Peter Heller

You're mistaken in thinking I'm unhappy. T have a great deal too much to do to think of you very often. — W. Somerset Maugham

Her pain was so great that she could have screamed at the top of her voice. She had never known that one could suffer so much; and she asked herself desperately what she had done to deserve it. — W. Somerset Maugham

It was a pity that with his great qualities, his unselfishness and honor, his intelligence and sensibility, he should be so unlovable. — W. Somerset Maugham

Lift Not The Painted Veil
Lift not the painted veil which those who live
Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,
And it but mimic all we would believe
With colours idly spread,
behind, lurk Fear
And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave
Their shadows, o'er the chasm, sightless and drear.
I knew one who had lifted it
he sought,
For his lost heart was tender, things to love,
But found them not, alas! nor was there aught
The world contains, the which he could approve.
Through the unheeding many he did move,
A splendour among shadows, a bright blot
Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove
For truth, and like the Preacher found it not. — Percy Bysshe Shelley

The seeds you are harvesting today were planted by the words of your mouth yesterday. — Kenneth Copeland

I'm pulled, pushed and then I find my back against a wall. Eagan's taut frame is bent toward mine, and my body is arched toward his. We create a peculiar sculpture of opposite forces. He cups my face in his palms and makes me look up at him. His lips are so close to mine, that I feel the whisper of his breath against my mouth; I smell mint and a hint of beer. I desire a kiss so desperately, my body is humming with longing. I curl my fingers around his wrists.
"I hate fighting with you," he admits huskily.
"I know. Me too."
"I need to hold you."
I nod and let him fold his arms around me. I bury my face against his chest and utter soft sounds of contentment as his warmth leaks into my skin.
I glance at our shadows painted on the gravel by darkness and streetlights; we're not opposite forces any longer, we're one single being.

("A Veil of Glass and Rain") — Petra F. Bagnardi

The long-term goal of Christians in politics should be to gain exclusive control over the franchise. Those who refuse to submit publicly to the eternal sanctions of God by submitting to His Church's public marks of the covenant-baptism and holy communion-must be denied citizenship. — Gary North

Hurrying on, Barbee nodded to the workman as casually as he could. His skin felt goose-pimpled under the thin red robe, and he couldn't help shivering to a colder chill than he felt in the frosty air. For the quiet city, it seemed to him, was only a veil of painted illusion. Its air of sleepy peace concealed brooding horror, too frightful for sane minds to dwell upon. Even the cheery bricklayer with the lunch pail might - just might - be the monstrous Child of Night. — Jack Williamson