Pathtalk Quotes & Sayings

She ventured to recommend a larger allowance of prose in his daily study; and on being requested to particularise, mentioned such works by our best moralists, such collections of fine letters, such memoirs of characters of worth and suffering, as occurred to her at the moment as calculated to rouse and fortify the mind. — Jane Austen

Who is the daughter of God? — Madelaine Standing

I'm interested in the way major events don't necessarily announce themselves as major events. They're often little things - the drip, drip of life that changes people or affects people. — Noah Baumbach

I make us better by competing with you. — Toba Beta

She watched the coals grow cooler and wondered if worlds grew cool as well. If existence faded like heat. — Owen Egerton

The problem, of course, was that turning into a monster was the brighter of my two choices. Choice Number 1: I turn into a vampyre, which equals a monster in just about any human's mind. Choice Number 2: My body rejects the Change and I die. Forever.
So the good news is that I wouldn't have to take the geometry test tomorrow. — Kristin Cast

How much pleasure can you stand? — Richard Bandler

On the comedy side of what I love as a filmmaker are Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce, and Eddie Murphy; those are my favorites. — David Dobkin

If you know you are yourself, you know that you are not somebody else; but do you know that you are yourself? Are — George MacDonald

Look over there - on that corner by the bus stop - isn't that Winchester Stone? As — Richie Tankersley Cusick

When your grandchildren ask you what you did during the war, you can say, I made this movie. — Viet Thanh Nguyen

Don't panic and lose hope even if there's a mountain in your pathtalk to the One who created the mountains. — Bilal Philips

She geared her ass to holy-shit-it's-going-to-eat-me speed and didn't think the soles of her flip-flops hit the ground until she reached the door to her own little business. (Angie) — Annie Nicholas

[...] my father staggering in drunk, beating my mother, the shame and hate in him burning, burning. Then he'd hit my brothers. And then me whom it was said he loved most. He'd save me for last, when his anger was ashes, when the fire was hottest. And then he's hold me, 'Sugar, sugar', he's croon, the tears so thick they made a lake on the linoleum floor. — Joy Harjo