Qtd Francesca Quotes & Sayings

There can be no more beautiful spot to die in, no spot more worthy of total despair, than one's own novel. — Franz Kafka

a wise man understands that his comfort is dependent on living in accord with the women in his life and not attempting to command them." His — Julia Quinn

I'm just another guy starting out. — Tim Tebow

It was not brilliant bull-fighting. It was only perfect bull-fighting. — Ernest Hemingway,

I'm greedy and ambitious like everybody else. — David Mamet

Friendship often grows out of shared experiences — Andrew Hacker

If your mind is filled with the Word of God, then it can't be filled with impure thoughts. — David Jeremiah

I am always sad, I think. Perhaps this signifies that I am not sad at all, because sadness is something lower than your normal disposition, and I am always the same thing. Perhaps I am the only person in the world, then, who never becomes sad. Perhaps I am lucky. — Jonathan Safran Foer

I stand up, sure of one thing and one thing only. That my father will come and get me. He won't give me a lecture, he won't try to teach me a lesson. He won't ask a thousand questions or ask me to apologize. He'll just come and get me.
Just tell me where you are. — Melina Marchetta

I used to tell your mother she looked like Sophia Lauren." He looks at me, frowning, and then it registers.
"Oh God, some guy's using that line on you, isn't he?"
"Not just 'some guy'." I tell him. "The guy. — Melina Marchetta

What about when you miss someone? Where does that come from? It comes from love. — Art Hochberg

Despite what they tell you, there are simply no moral absolutes in a complex world. — Berkeley Breathed

Yea, she hath passed hereby, and blessed the sheaves,
And the great garths, and stacks, and quiet farms,
And all the tawny, and the crimson leaves.
Yea, she hath passed with poppies in her arms,
Under the star of dusk, through stealing mist,
And blessed the earth, and gone, while no man wist.
With slow, reluctant feet, and weary eyes,
And eye-lids heavy with the coming sleep,
With small breasts lifted up in stress of sighs,
She passed, as shadows pass, among the sheep;
While the earth dreamed, and only I was ware
Of that faint fragrance blown from her soft hair.
The land lay steeped in peace of silent dreams;
There was no sound amid the sacred boughs.
Nor any mournful music in her streams:
Only I saw the shadow on her brows,
Only I knew her for the yearly slain,
And wept, and weep until she come again. — Frederic Manning

Somerset Maugham ... wrote somewhere that "Nobody is any better than he ought to be." ... I carried it along with me as a working philosophy, but I suppose that finally I would have to take exception to the thought ... or else the universe is just an elaborate clock. — Norman Mailer