Postgresql Copy Quotes & Sayings

Your truths are worse than your lies. — Richelle Mead

A girl has the power to go forward in her life. And she's not only a mother, she's not only a sister, she's not only a wife. But a girl has the - she should have an identity. She should be recognized and she has equal rights as a boy. — Malala Yousafzai

History no longer shall be a dull book. It shall walk incarnate in every just and wise man. You shall not tell me by language and titles a catalogue of the volumes you have read. You shall make me feel what periods you have lived. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

The teacher is of course an artist, but being an artist does not mean that he or she can make the profile, can shape the students. What the educator does in teaching is to make it possible for the students to become themselves. — Paulo Freire

Wait." He paused, and she held out a hand to him. His thick fingers engulfed her tapering ones; his skin was warm and dry, and scorched her. "Before we go pick up poor Lieutenant Illyan again ... "
He took her in his arms, and they kissed, for the first time, for a long time.
"Oh," she muttered after. "Perhaps that was a mistake. It hurts so much when you stop."
"Well, let me ... " his hand stroked her hair, gently, then desperately wrapped itself in a shimmering coil; they kissed again. — Lois McMaster Bujold

The result is autobiographical, although whenever someone's asked me over the course of these last three years just what the book is about, I've usually avoided such a description. An autobiography promises feats worthy of record, conversations with famous people, a central role in important events. There is none of that here. — Barack Obama

Technology is a useful servant but a dangerous master. — Christian Lous Lange

When people get scared, they quit giving. — Dave Ramsey

As an entrepreneur making decisions for your company, always go back to your first principles of what's important to you and why you started in the first place. — Matt Mullenweg

I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo. — Sylvia Plath