Pronounce Iturea Quotes & Sayings

The earth was darker on this side of the Thunderpath and the grass felt coarser underpaw. As they approached the foot of Highstones, the grass gave way to bare, rocky soil, dotted with patches of heather. The land sloped up now, toward the sky. Craggy rocks topped the slope, blazing orange in the sun. — Erin Hunter

If I know somebody is coming 'round, it is incredibly difficult for me to work because I'm waiting for this interruption - even the children's comings and goings are interruptions. Cake-making is a good way of coming out of that space. — Rachel Cusk

When we fail, we think that is the end of life. Actually, it is the beginning of a greater life when we persistently preserved. — Lailah Gifty Akita

I would be remiss if I left the impression that my life has been totally preoccupied with scholarly research. — Douglass North

The scattered tea goes with the leaves and every day a sunset dies. — William Faulkner

CELL

Now look objectively. You have to
admit the cancer cell is beautiful.
If it were a flower, you'd say, How pretty,
with its mauve centre and pink petals

of if a cover for a pulpy thirties
sci-fi magazine. How striking:
as an alien, a success,
all purple eye and jelly tentacles
and spines, or are they gills,
creeping around on granular Martian
dirt red as the inside of the body,

while its tender walls
expand and burst, its spores
scatter elsewhere, take root, like money,
drifting like a fiction or
miasma in and out of people's
brains, digging themselves
industriously in. The lab technician

says, It has forgotten
how to die. But why remember? All it wants is more
amnesia. More life, and more abundantly. to take
more. to eat more. To replicate itself. To keep on
doing those things forever. Such desires
are not unknown. Look in the mirror. — Margaret Atwood

I grew up going to church three times a week in my family. It's been a center of my life. — Debby Boone

Is the world really beautified by the fact that man thinks it beautiful? He has humanized it, that is all. — Friedrich Nietzsche