Pojemnik Na Quotes & Sayings

You can't beat women anyhow and that if you are wise or dislike trouble and uproar you don't even try to. — William Faulkner

La luna hung beautifully bright over the horizon, in a sky still dark. Cold breezes blew over the river and ruffled the tall grasses along the bank, making them rustle and chatter. In their waving fronds I sensed small animals stirring. The pure song of a nightingale, a rossinhol, rang across the water, ending in a trill. It was an hour for sprites and fairies. What magic might lurk among the riverbank grasses? Anything was possible just before dawn. — Julie Berry

Silence is so steadfast, you know. It is so ample, after all. — Alice Fulton

If I'm going to leave my family for any length of time, it had better be for a role that I haven't played before, with great people. It had better be fun. — Catherine Zeta-Jones

If you have made the good profession, if you claimed to have passed through the gate, if you have received baptism in a public declaration of your faith, and you begin to walk-it doesn't matter how long it appears you're walking in that path-if you step off that path and there's no discipline and you continue on that path, you can have no assurance whatsoever of your salvation. And it is not that you lost your salvation, it's that you're showing now that you never had it. If we would only preach these truths — Paul Washer

Generosity toward the lower classes historically has never been an important part of upper-class awareness. — Michael Parenti

Your compassion is a weakness your enemies will not share, — Liam Neeson

Freedom of the mind is the most important liberty we have. Our belief in God's grace gives us that freedom. — Ron Baratono

Bowie is less about trappings and more about the traps that seek to limit human potential. — Mark Paytress

I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars. — Dylan Thomas

My sparrow, she flickers and wakes and sings and sings. — Lisa Ann Sandell

Your body is a hyacinth,
Into which a monk dips his waxy fingers.
Our silence is a black cavern,
From which a soft animal steps at times
And slowly lowers heavy eyelids.
On your temples black dew drips,
The last gold of expired stars — Georg Trakl