Repolho Fermentado Quotes & Sayings

I would expect a significant development and elaboration of language in only a few generations if all the chimps unable to communicate were to die or fail to reproduce. Basic English corresponds to about 1,000 words. Chimpanzees are already accomplished in vocabularies exceeding 10 percent of that number. — Carl Sagan

You are the voice of God in this world — Sunday Adelaja

Feeling free inside oneself is being free. — Rei Kawakubo

You consider me for a moment, perhaps balancing the weight of your fear against the loneliness you will later feel in your room if you do not speak now — Guy Mankowski

Also, I knew that if I said a single word, I would burst into tears, as I always did, always had, my entire life, whenever anything difficult had to be discussed. It always was too scary; a threat I had felt since childhood that at any moment a relationship might disappear with a poof because of something little I had done or said. — Sheila Heti

Did you see how she stood and faced them down? I demanded with pride. A most excellent bitch, Nighteyes agreed. — Robin Hobb

If a guy like you can stand up and do what you did then maybe everyone can. Maybe everyone can live beyond what they're capable of.
And that's when I realize: I'm not the messenger at all. I'm the message. — Markus Zusak

Some might say I need more healing but the connection you feel with the man you love, like how deeply I love Jaxson, can only truly be expressed one way. It's the binding of our bodies that communicates the bond of our soul. — Faleena Hopkins

Unsettling because it reveals some possible branch of evolution in which sex organs will no longer exist. The bots won't need them, and perhaps without them, the entire concept of gender will disappear. — Judd Trichter

Dasher was able-bodied; that was part of the problem. His body was able to make hers do crazy things under his scrutiny, touch, scent. — Joy Avery

In the forest, in the forest, silence had cast a spell over all things. She plucked a great bouquet of daffodils and snowdrops, and tenderly held them to her, and tenderly kissed their fresh spring faces. She did not sing at all, but sat silent, expectant, and wondering, till her flowers faded and withered in her hands. — Katherine Mansfield

What those years said of themselves was that they were the most joyous of years, and anyone who failed to rejoice was immediately suspected of lamenting the victory of the working class or |what was equally sinful| giving way individualistically to inner sorrows. — Milan Kundera