Pemerintahan Presidensial Quotes & Sayings

You can't remain in a state of sheer panic and terror indefinitely, and both had run their course. Ever since, I've thought that must be why we cry: our bodies are coping with something our minds and hearts can't absorb by themselves. — Saroo Brierley

My parents would always trace the sign of the cross on our foreheads before they kissed us goodnight. — Vincent Nichols

My fans are probably largely female; it wasn't until 'How to Make it in America' that guys started coming up to me: 'You're Bryan Greenberg.' 'Yeah ... Don't hurt me. What do you want?' 'Love the show.' — Bryan Greenberg

She had something down there twice as big as mine. That's why I say you better watch where you stroke, cause it could turn out, turn out to be a joke. — Gary B.B. Coleman

Like I said - I wasn't stupid. Rough around the edges maybe, definitely a little perverted at times, but never stupid. I was a survivor. I'd damn well survive this. — Elle Jasper

Pym looked at the bugs, glanced at the sleeve of his proud uniform, stared again at the deadly parody of his insignia the creatures now bore, and shot Miles a look of heartbreaking despair, a silent cry which Miles had no trouble interpreting as, Please, m'lord, please, can we take him out and kill him now? — Lois McMaster Bujold

Nagging and denial - the dance of marital intimacy — Magda Szubanski

I don't see it as a form of healing, because if you have wounds that are bleeding I don't think acting will ever get them to stop. But I find acting is a form of illumination. — Rebecca De Mornay

Compassion for victims is sometimes forgotten in a misapplied concern for their oppressors and murderers. — Max Anders

She had the look of someone who'd declared herself, and seeing it, my indignation collapsed and her mutinous bath turned into something else entirely. She'd immersed herself in forbidden privileges, yes, but mostly in the belief she was worthy of those privileges. What she'd done was not a revolt, it was a baptism. I saw then what I hadn't seen before, that I was very good at despising slavery in the abstract, in the removed and anonymous masses, but in the concrete, intimate flesh of the girl beside me, I'd lost the ability to be repulsed by it. I'd grown comfortable with the particulars of evil. There's a frightful muteness that dwells at the center of all unspeakable things, and I had found my way into it. As Handful began to shove the vessel back across the piazza, I tried to speak. ". . . . . . Wait. . . . . . I'll. . . . . . help . . ." She turned and looked at me, and we both knew. My tongue would once again attempt its suicide. — Sue Monk Kidd