Plumped Up Fowl Quotes & Sayings

Is base in kind, and born to be a slave. — William Cowper

There is not much sense in suffering, since drugs can be given for pain, itching, and other discomforts. The belief has long died that suffering here on earth will be rewarded in heaven. Suffering has lost its meaning. — Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

18th September, 1970; Jimi Hendrix dies. I'm still on the football team when I get the news. So I take my helmet off and confront the coach to tell him I'm quitting the team. In a moment of brilliance he gives me one look and says "OK". — Joe Satriani

David Langford, illustrates the difference between teaching and
learning in a little story. He says, 'You know, last Wednesday I
taught my dog to whistle. I really did. I taught him to whistle. It
was hard work. I really went at it very hard. But I taught him to
whistle. Of course, he didn't learn, but I taught.' — Myron Tribus

We were both just too messed up to ever be with each other in the way we needed to be. Two shooting stars that burned out too quickly, never quite reaching each other's skies. — Tillie Cole

My lovely little poppet,
Your breakfast awaits you in the kitchen.
Last evening was magical and I am most excited to repeat it this eve.
I will dream of you.
~ Sinjin — H.P. Mallory

Trying to cut the deficit too far, too fast isn't working. The government must adopt a steadier, more balanced plan to get our deficit down and take immediate action now to support the economy and create jobs here in Britain. — Ed Balls

When I think of it as happening to somebody else, it seems that the idea of me soaked to the skin, surrounded by countless driving streaks of silver, and moving through when I completely forget my material existence, and view myself from a purely objective standpoint, can I, as a figure in a painting, blend into the beautiful harmony of my natural surroundings. The moment, however, I feel annoyed because of the rain, or miserable because my legs are weary because of the rain, or miserable because my legs are weary with walking, then I have already ceased to be a character in a poem, or a figure in a painting, and I revert to the uncomprehending, insensitive man in the street I was before. I am then even blind to the elegance of the fleeting clouds; unable even to feel any bond of sympathy with a falling petal or the cry of a bird, much less appreciate the great beauty in the image of myself, completely alone, walking through the mountains in spring. — Soseki Natsume

I was a wise-a** college student of twenty at the time and a precocious musician, with somewhat of that screw-you-I'm-a-jazz-player attitude. — Gene Hull