Professional Photography Price Quotes & Sayings

Open your hands, ye whose hands are full! The world is waiting for you! The whole machinery of the Divine beneficence is clogged by your hard hearts and rigid fingers.
Give and spend,
and be sure that God will send;
for only in giving and spending
do you fulfill the object of His sending. — Bill Vaughan

People who write fiction, if they had not taken it up, might have become very successful liars. — Ernest Hemingway,

Silence and solitude are universally recognized spiritual practices, and there are good reasons for this. Learning how to discipline your speech is a way of preventing your energies from spilling out of you through the rupture of your mouth, exhausting you and filling the world with words, words, words instead of serenity, peace and bliss. — Elizabeth Gilbert

Yet nightly pitch my moving tent, a day's march nearer home. — James Montgomery

I love the road. That's always been my goal. I've said that to many record labels. I want to make records. The road is my favorite. Some people hate the road, I love the road. — Gary Allan

When people ask how have I kept on top, I have to say with the help of every photographer, make-up artist and hairdresser I've ever worked with. — Linda Evangelista

I grew up in the countryside in Saitama prefecture, north of Tokyo. — Nobu Matsuhisa

You've become a fire within me." He pressed her palm to the center of his chest. "Right here. Bringing light to places I never knew were in shadow." His breath shuddered out of him. "I can't go back to the darkness, Fiona." Suza Kates, Chosen Blood — Suza Kates

In fact, Wen'an was the prefect location for the scrap-plastics trace: it was close, but not too close, to Beijing and Tianjin, two massive metropolises with lots of consumers and lots of factories in need of cheap raw materials. Even better, its traditional industry - farming - was disappearing as the region's once-plentiful streams and wells were run dry by the region's rampant, unregulated oil industry. So land was plentiful, and so were laborers desperate for a wage to replace the money lost when their fields died. As I hear these stories, I can't help but wonder: How much of the plastic that Wen'an recycles was made from the oil pumped from Wen'an's soil? Are all those old plastic bags blowing down Wen'an's streets ghosts of the fuel that used to run beneath them? — Adam Minter