Priamine Quotes & Sayings

Patience is a willingness, in a sense, to watch the unfolding purposes of God with a sense of wonder and awe, rather than pacing up and down within the cell of our circumstance. — Neal A. Maxwell

Something can be beautiful, if something else is ugly.
Someone can be good, if someone else is bad. — Lao-Tzu

Big Oil is a club, and they'll do everything to keep me out. — T. Boone Pickens

Walt, as a leader, had envisioned not just what was good for the next year, but what would be needed five or ten years down the line. — Jim Korkis

He who subdues his enemy is strong;
he who wins his enemy over is wise. — Matshona Dhliwayo

When she is happy, she can't stop talking, when she is sad she doesn't say a word. — Ann Brashares

We, like the natural world, have become mere commodities in the hands of corporations to exploit until exhaustion or collapse. Elected officials are manufactured personalities and celebrities. We vote based on how we are made to feel about corporate political puppets. The puppets, Democrat and Republican, engage in hollow acts of political theater keep the fiction of the democratic state alive. There is, however, no national institution left that can accurately be described as democratic. Citizens, rather than participate in power, are permitted virtual opinions to preordained questions, a kind of participatory fascism as meaningless as voting on "American Idol." Mass — Bertram M. Gross

People can do things completely against their nature, completely. It's like some tiny earthquake comes roaring through your body and soul, and it's the only earthquake you'll ever feel. But it damages so much, cracks the foundations of your life forever. — Sherman Alexie

Poet, do you think a melody would compliment one of you poems? I was fixing to compose one, fiddling with ideas in my head, but...would that make it a song and not a poem anymore? And I'm not saying I'll jot the tune down, but if I did, if you wanted it...that is to say, if you agreed, would that mean the poem has died? I don't want my lute to kill it, you see. Only when does a poem stop being a poem? Can it be a song, too?" He dropped his head and spoke to my boots. "Can they blend together?"
If only he were truly referring to artistry. — Natalia Jaster