Preachers Wives Quotes & Sayings

I realised how rich I had become and I asked myself, 'Do I really want to be the richest person in the cemetery?' — David Rubenstein

The International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilization (ISTAC) ... to establish a superior library reflecting the religious and intellectual traditions both of the Islamic and Western civilizations. — Syed Muhammad Naquib Al-Attas

I come from a family of cops, and all of them share that understanding that they put their lives on the line. — Ryan Reynolds

A dream doesn't come true by itself ... we must pull it. — Mohammed Sekouty

Everyone should consider his body as a priceless gift from one whom he loves above all, a marvelous work of art, of indescribable beauty, and mystery beyond human conception, and so delicate that a word, a breath, a look, nay, a thought may injure it. — Nikola Tesla

Some families sell their stocks off a little bit at a time to live high, and then - boom - somebody takes them over, and it all goes down the drain. — Sam Walton

Adoration is the spontaneous yearning of the heart to worship, honor, magnify, and bless God. We ask nothing but to cherish him. We seek nothing but his exaltation. We focus on nothing but his goodness. — Richard J. Foster

Neukom, the Giants' buttoned-down owner, finally found Ross and vigorously rubbed his bald head while screaming jibberish nobody could understand — Andrew Baggarly

What's the difference between Lindsay Lohan and Rick Perry? It only takes Lindsay four and a half hours to finish a sentence. — Jay Leno

Novels are political not because writers carry party cards
some do, I do not
but because good fiction is about identifying with and understanding people who are not necessarily like us. By nature all good novels are political because identifying with the other is political. At the heart of the 'art of the novel' lies the human capacity to see the world through others' eyes. Compassion is the greatest strength of the novelist. — Orhan Pamuk

But most of all, as summer slanted to an end, he was learning to love idleness, idleness no longer as stretches of freedom reclaimed by stealth here and there from involuntary labour, surreptitious thefts to be enjoyed sitting on his heels before a flowerbed with the fork dangling from his fingers, but as a yielding up of himself to time, to a time flowing slowly like oil from horizon to horizon over the face of the world, washing over his body, circulating in his armpits and his groin, stirring his eyelids. He was neither pleased nor displeased when there was work to do; it was all the same. He could lie all afternoon with his eyes open, staring at the corrugations in the roof-iron and the tracings of rust; his mind would not wander, he would see nothing but the iron, the lines would not transform themselves into pattern or fantasy; he was himself, lying in his own house, the rust was merely rust, all that was moving was time, bearing him onward in its flow. — J.M. Coetzee

If we are worried about the future, then we must look today at the upbringing of children. — Gordon B. Hinckley

Because traditions are soothing when everything else goes to hell. — Courtney Cole