Poreless At Any Age Quotes & Sayings

Each training session I'm getting better and better. I have no other duties now, no worries, it's all about training, eating and sleeping. I have a lot more time and can put a lot more effort into training. I'm feeling better every day. As long as I'm feeling myself I'm definitely in no doubt I can go to the Olympics and win. — Usain Bolt

It's better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would've happened if I had tried — Alfred Lord Tennyson

It had happened. I had brought the dream out into reality and it had dissolved. It was just a dream and had found no purchase in the real world where it was dependent on other people for its realization. I wished that I could have sucked my words back inside where they had lived a colorful life of promise, had been nurtured by hope, and had never been tested — James Franco

The worship leader God is after is the one whose heart is captured by Him. — Chris Tomlin

But I've never considered myself any kind of heartthrob. It sounds painful. — Gavin DeGraw

He's tender and defenseless, as if every part of him is exposed. He's not the asshole I thought he was, not even close. What I see is someone broken and fierce. Someone loyal and hardened. Someone who could belong to me completely, and me to him. — Suzanne Young

Adron! Don't you hurt him. (Kiara)
I'm not going to hurt him, Mom. I'm going to kill him. (Young Adron) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

To treat fiction as if it were a religious or moral sermon is about as far from the actuality of literature as it is possible to get and indeed it is, in my opinion, the purest form of intellectual barbarism. — Edward W. Said

There is rhythm in chaos - even within the cacophony of the mind. — Shaun M. Thomas

I love the infantry because they are the underdogs. They are the mud-rain-frost-and-wind boys. They have no comforts, and they even learn to live without the necessities. And in the end they are the guys that wars can't be won without. — Ernie Pyle

A half-naked, betel-chewing pessimist stood upon the bank of the tropical river, on the edge of the still and immense forests; a man angry, powerless, empty-handed, with a cry of bitter discontent ready on his lips; a cry that, had it come out, would have rung through the virgin solitudes of the woods as true, as great, as profound, as any philosophical shriek that ever came from the depths of an easy chair to disturb the impure wilderness of chimneys and roofs. — Joseph Conrad