Prancing Exercise Quotes & Sayings

Statesmen can strive for the universal values of justice, fairness, and tolerance, but only so far as they do not interfere with the quest for power, which to him is synonymous with survival. — Robert D. Kaplan

What is the work of a Master?" said a solemn-faced visitor. "To teach people to laugh ," said the Master gravely. — Anthony De Mello

When I sing, I want people to think only about the tenor and only about the music. — Jose Carreras

It is one proof of a good education and of true refinement of feeling, to respect antiquity. — Sigourney Weaver

When we think back to our forefathers, with their sedentary lives of forest-chopping, railroad-building, fortune-founding, their fox-hunting and Indian taming, their prancing about in the mazurka and the polka, with their coattails flying and their bustles bouncing, to say nothing of their all-day sessions with the port and straight bourbon, ... we must realize that we are a nation, not of neurasthenics, but of sissies and slow-motion sports. — Robert Benchley

Age looks with anger on the temerity of youth, and youth with contempt on the scrupulosity of age. — Samuel Johnson

He had opened the book at random several times, seeking a sortes Virgilianae, before he chose the sentences on which his code was to be based. 'You say: I am not free. But I have lifted my hand and let it fall.' It was as if in choosing that passage, he were transmitting a signal of defiance to both the services. The last word of the message, when it was decoded by Boris or another, would read 'goodbye. — Graham Greene

I love the tranquility, serenity, generosity, and the beauty of the ocean. — Debasish Mridha

A person with victim mentality cannot find himself, his life mission, and go towards his aims — Sunday Adelaja

Fool, 'tis in vain from wit to wit to roam: Know, sense, like charity, begins at home. — Alexander Pope

I recall one particular sunset. It lent an ember to my bicycle hell. Overhead, above the black music of telegraph wires, a number of long, dark-violet clouds lined with flamingo pink hung motionless in a fan-shaped arrangement; the whole thing was like some prodigious ovation in terms of color and form! It was dying, however, and everything else was darkening, too; but just above the horizon, in a lucid, turquoise space, beneath a black stratus, the eye found a vista that only a fool could mistake for the square parts of this or any other sunset. It occupied a very small sector of the enormous sky and had the peculiar neatness of something seen through the wrong end of a telescope. There it lay in wait, a brilliant convolutions, anachronistic in their creaminess and extremely remote; remote but perfect in every detail; fantastically reduced but faultlessly shaped; my marvelous tomorrow ready to be delivered to me. — Vladimir Nabokov