Pripovetka Jablan Quotes & Sayings

It is an ocean of burning oil I am cast adrift upon, no sea's repose; I pass from waking agonies ... to the semiconscious trance of torment in which the smaller, earlier, deeper rings of the brain know only that the nerves scream, the body aches, and there is no one to turn crying to for comfort. — Iain Banks

She wasn't wearing makeup that night, and didn't need any. The moonlight was her makeup. — Stephen King

A person cannot shine light if he is afraid of the dark. — Orrin Woodward

The main plot line is simple: Getting your character to the foot of the tree, getting him up the tree, and then figuring out how to get him down again. — Jane Yolen

I love it when Muslims go to war with each other, as I do when the Christians do, because it shows there's no such thing as the Christian world and the Islamic world. That's all crap. — Christopher Hitchens

Avian madness or deranged kiwi? — Magaly Guerrero

Beauty is in the ideal of perfect harmony which is in the Universal Being; Truth the perfect comprehension of the Universal Mind. — Rabindranath Tagore

Wit is as infinite as love, and a deal more lasting in its qualities. — Agnes Repplier

The problem is you can't wear your old shoes too often because people say, 'You're still wearing that shoe?' — Jochen Zeitz

The goal is to be free and hopeful in the music. Because that's really the only intention you need. From there, every natural and powerful intention and feeling will, on its own, slide right out of you - out of your spirit. — Alex Ebert

And the two women stood side by side looking at the slender, flowering tree. Although it was so still it seemed, like the flame of a candle, to stretch up, to point, to quiver in the bright air, to grow taller and taller as they gazed - almost to touch the rim of the round, silver moon.
How long did they stand there? Both, as it were, caught in that circle of unearthly light, understanding each other perfectly, creatures of another world, and wondering what they were to do in this one with all this blissful treasure that burned in their bosoms and dropped, in silver flowers, from their hair and hands? — Katherine Mansfield