Quiosque Dos Quotes & Sayings

Things are not always as they appear to be as. — Mike Shannon

Tell me the word that will win you, and I will speak it. I will speak the stars of heaven into a crown for your head; I will speak the flowers of the field into a cloak; I will speak the racing stream into a melody for your ears and the voices of a thousand larks to sing it; I will speak the softness of night for your bed and the warmth of summer for your coverlet; I will speak the brightness of flame to light your way and the luster of gold to shine in your smile; I will speak until the hardness in you melts away and your heart is free ... — Stephen R. Lawhead

Thinking of jumping? (Callie)
It would make you a rich widow if I did. Care to push me? (Sin) — Kinley MacGregor

Let your love be your guide. Let your courage be your driver, and let your passion be your road to enjoy this magnificent life to the fullest. — Debasish Mridha

There is real confusion about what it means to be right and wrong - the difference between what spiritual beliefs are and what science is. — Lisa Randall

Home is the place where you are most thoroughly yourself, with no pretenses. — Victoria Moran

Murmuring soothing noises, Dallas settled himself between her thighs and pressed a soft kiss to her clit. "You're all right." He eased the second sphere out of her. "I've got you."
She laughed and covered her face with her hands. "No, you don't. I can't stop spinning."
He dropped another kiss, this time to her inner thigh. "Nothing wrong with spinning." One final tug and another full-body shudder from Lex, and he tossed the toy aside. "I'll catch you, love. I'll always catch you."
"Will you?" She traced his jaw. "Even when you're spinning with me?"
"Especially then. — Kit Rocha

Most people today couldn't tell a bombardier from a brigadier - said during a lecture in aid of the Army Benevolent Fund in 2009 — Richard Holmes

Design is an unknown. — Geoffrey Beene

A bullet kissed a hole in the door-frame close to my noodle. — Dashiell Hammett

My first life fled without a fight and left nothing behind, so I doubt it was a loss worth mourning. A man I don't remember mixed genes with a woman I can't recall, and I was called to the stage. I stumbled through the curtain, squinting into the blinding light of the birth canal, and after a brief and banal performance, I died.
This is the arc of the average life - unexamined, unremarked, unremarkable - and it should have ended there. In simpler times, life was a one-act play, and when it was over we took our bows and caught our roses and enjoyed any applause we earned, then the spotlight faded and we shuffled backstage to nibble crackers in the greenroom of eternity. — Isaac Marion