Penafsiran Quotes & Sayings

She was...disarming. — Patrick Marber

You look as scary as a buttered muffin. — Tamora Pierce

So now when a fight starts up I don't walk away like I used to, I crowd in and wait for those ghost words to start coming up. I've heard chump and howler and groovy, I've heard fuzz and kike and kraut and coon and square and roughhouse and lightweight and freak show and mama's boy and cancer stick and fairy and party hearty and flyboy and knuckle sandwich, and I grab up these expressions, I trap them in my head and I save them. Because every one has the DNA of a whole life in it, a life where those words fit in and made sense because everyone else was saying them, too. — Jennifer Egan

Seriously, I've just realized that almost everyone is a fraud, so I try not to feel too bad about it. — Tina Fey

Writing is when I fly, writing is when I start fires. Writing is when I take death out of my left pocket, throw him against the wall and catch him as he bounces back. — Charles Bukowski

We are all echoes of each other. We are all humans and feel both despair and happiness. Our similarities, as a species, are staggering. And our mental fragility is directly tied up with our humanity. We have nothing to be ashamed of in being human, any more than a tree should be ashamed of having branches. Let's accept our own nature. Let's be kind to ourselves and to each other. Let's never add to the pain by blaming ourselves. We are all so weird that, really, none of us are. There are seven billion versions of strange on this freak wonder of a planet. We are all part of that. All freaks. All wonderful. — Matt Haig

Excuses are incompatible with excellence. The — Eric Greitens

It's really hard to find stuff that is original. You pick up scripts and in four pages you know where it's going and the same thing when you are sitting in a theatre, I just rejoice when something unfolds in a way that I'm not conducive ... — Susan Sarandon

Somewhere at the heart of the universe sounds the true mystic note: Me. — Peter Porter

There is not much talking now. A silence falls upon them all. This is no time to talk of hedges and fields, or the beauties of any country. Sadness and fear and hate, how they well up in the heart and mind, whenever one opens pages of these messengers of doom. Cry for the broken tribe, for the law and the custom that is gone. Aye, and cry aloud for the man who is dead, for the woman and children bereaved. Cry, the beloved country, these things are not yet at an end. The sun pours down on the earth, on the lovely land that man cannot enjoy. He knows only the fear of his heart. — Alan Paton