Passaparola Oyunu Quotes & Sayings

There are two important days in a woman's life: the day she is born and the day she finds out why. — Terry Tempest Williams

If the 19th [century] was the century of the individual (liberalism means individualism), you may consider that this is the "collective" century, and therefore the century of the state. — Benito Mussolini

Aedion - every breath she took seemed to echo his name. Aedion, Aedion, Aedion. — Sarah J. Maas

And forever goodbye! Forever! Oh, Sir, can you imagine how dreadful this cruel word sounds when one loves? — Jean Racine

You haven't done your best yet because you haven't seen the best you can do yet. You are where you are now because you haven't seen where you can be yet. If you see, your attitude, thought and tactics towards life will definitely change — Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

How swift, the slippage from keeping it together to losing it. — Lauren Groff

If you aren't embarrassed by the first version of your product, you shipped too late. — Reid Hoffman

But Jesus doesn't refuse to reach out to us in the middle of hurts and heartbreaks and mess-ups. — Lysa TerKeurst

I am ninety. Or ninety-three. One or the other. When you're five, you know your age down to the month. Even in your twenties you know how old you are. I'm twenty-three, you say, or maybe twenty-seven. But then in your thirties something strange starts to happen. It's a mere hiccup at first, an instant of hesitation. How old are you? Oh, I'm - you start confidently, but then you stop. You were going to say thirty-three, but you're not. You're thirty-five. And then you're bothered, because you wonder if this is the beginning of the end. It is, of course, but it's decades before you admit it. You start to forget words: they're on the tip of your tongue, but instead of eventually dislodging, they stay there. You go upstairs to fetch something, and by the time you get there you can't remember what it was you were after. — Anonymous

Maybe we really are made of the same clay, maybe we really are condemned, blameless, to the same, identical mediocrity. — Elena Ferrante