Pollastrini Eye Quotes & Sayings

Music will always be a major part of my life, its my outlet, I'm in my element and I'm free. — Mandisa

Often, we get crushes on others not because we truly love and understand them, but to distract ourselves from our suffering. When we learn to love and understand ourselves and have true compassion for ourselves, then we can truly love and understand another person. — Thich Nhat Hanh

All life is a statue of yourself, so be the best artist to make the statue the most beautiful. — Debasish Mridha

What kind of man can name a child Moon Unit? — Frank Zappa

Simona: Truth doesn't exist?
Katie: ...because everyone's got their own side of a story
...If there's no real truth, then all we can do is offer up our own stories and listen to other people's and try and make sense of it all — Jenny Downham

If I went back to college again, I'd concentrate on two areas learning to write and to speak before an audience. Nothing in life is more important than the ability to communicate effectively. — Gerald R. Ford

When heart speaks and heart listens, harmony is produced. When head talks and head listens, argument is produced. — Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people. — Karl Marx

Eighteenth-century matrons would have never have dreamed of appointing a redhaired wet nurse for their precious offspring - redheads passed on their horrible characters through their milk. — Kate Williams

I think I was probably an early teenager when I discovered Bessie Smith, Ma Rainey and a bunch of people that are on a long list of artists. They were important to me, especially as an early adolescent. — Madeleine Peyroux

Anger does a man more hurt than that which made him angry. — Charles Spurgeon

She blows kisses to the one who danced through her dreams and leaves a trail of moon dust on her heart... — Virginia Alison

Our souls are full of Gothic arches, pinnacles, twisted traceries we cannot shake off, and of which Greek minds knew nothing. — Henryk Sienkiewicz

In a sense, Joyce was Beckett's Don Quixote, and Beckett was his Sancho Panza. Joyce aspired to the One; Beckett encapsulated the fragmented many. But as each author accomplished his task, it was in the service of the other. Ultimately, Beckett's landscapes would resound with articulate silence, and his empty spaces would collect within themselves the richness of multiple shadows
a physicist would say the negative particles
of all that exists in absence, as in the white patches of an Abstract Expressionist painting. Becket would evoke, on his canvasses of vast innuendo and through the interstices of conscious and unconscious thought, the richness that Joyce had made explicit in words and intricate structure. — Lois Gordon