Ratnici Slike Quotes & Sayings

Let there be nothing untried; for nothing happens by itself, but men obtain all things by trying. — Herodotus

That's when America soars, when we look out for one another and we take care of each other, when we root for one another's success, when we strive to do better and to be better than the generation that came before us and try to build something better for generations to come, that's why we do what we do. That's the whole point of public service. — Barack Obama

I'd like to work more, but I don't just want to do kind of generic characters. I want to do interesting characters, and I'd like to be cast against type. — Jacqueline Bisset

I have never known my husband to approve any act of mine which I myself valued. — Julia Ward Howe

I was the "feelings" child. Everything I did was a feeling, and it did not count. It is so difficult to talk about demons and gods and spirits without it seeming that you are mad, or sarcastic, or simple, or talking in pictures, or trying to confuse. Or trying to be interesting. It is difficult to talk about demons and make it understood that even if "spirit" is the best word available, it isn't the right word. — Helen Oyeyemi

At a distance, they looked just boring enough to be important. — Craig Schaefer

Do not hide behind any mask — Lailah Gifty Akita

Sarcasm isn't an attitude. It's an art — Michelle Lee

A large part of the people in Hollywood are sheep - and I don't say that unkindly, I say that politically - if Spielberg and Streisand and Geffen and the others were Republicans tomorrow, you would see a shortage of paper to try and change registrations. — Jerry Doyle

To the world you are someone, but to someone you are the world. — Anonymous

You always just have to be the best that you can be. And if you know that in your heart, then that's all that matters. — Bella Thorne

Setting a good example for your children does nothing but increase their embarrassment. — Doug Larson

I used to have a cat, an old fighting tom, who would jump through the open window by my bed in the middle of the night and land on my chest. I'd half-awaken. He'd stick his skull under my nose and purr, stinking of urine and blood. Some nights he kneaded my bare chest with his front paws, powerfully, arching his back, as if sharpening his claws, or pummeling a mother for milk. And some mornings I'd wake in daylight to find my body covered with paw prints in blood; I looked as though I'd been painted with roses. — Annie Dillard