Regimented Personality Quotes & Sayings

I don't listen to anything when I'm writing. I need total quiet, which is astounding, given that I spent years working for a newspaper and having to write features surrounded by ringing phones and people shouting. — Jane Green

If you really want to know yourself, start by writing a book. — Shereen El Feki

I don't know why he isn't dead, maybe he's lucky. Certainly his physical self is dead. Before the streets, drugs, IV use, and hustling -medically - his body is not right.
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So there is some will to live in him, to pass on his knowledge and good nature. It's a mystery. Dave is an inspiration to people. He is society's throw-away. — Jim Goldberg

Why seekest thou rest when thou art born to labour? Prepare thyself for patience more than for comforts, and for bearing the cross more than for joy. — Thomas A Kempis

As a kid, did you think when you grew up you'd be spoken to as if you were still in preschool? When did it become okay to treat adults this way? — Adam Carolla

Christendom, as an effect, must be accounted for. It is too large for a mortal cause. — Frederic Dan Huntington

We are homeless enough in this world under the best of circumstances without going to any special effort to test our capacity to be more so. — Harold Edmund Stearns

I sleep completely naked to make me believe you are here, but when I wake up it is not the same thing. Most of all, don't deceive me with other women any more. — Camille Claudel

Optimism doesn't make you more persistent. Persistence makes you more optimistic. — Richie Norton

And then the rains came. They came down from the hills and up from the sound. And it rained a sickness. And it rained a fear. And it rained an odor. And it rained a murder. And it rained dangers and pale eggs of the beast. Rain poured for days, unceasing. Flooding occurred. The wells filled with reptiles. The basements filled with fossils. Mossy-haired lunatics roamed the dripping peninsulas. Moisture gleamed on the beak of the raven. Ancient Shaman's rained from their homes in dead tree trunks, clacked their clamshell teeth in the drowned doorways of forests. Rain hissed on the freeway. It hissed at the prows of fishing boats. It ate the old warpaths, spilled the huckleberries, ran into the ditches. Soaking. Spreading. Penetrating. And it rained an omen. And it rained a poison. And it rained a pigment. And it rained a seizure. — Tom Robbins

What you burnt, broke, and tore is still in my hands. I am the keeper of fragile things and I have kept of you what is indissoluble. — Anais Nin