Romantiques Quotes & Sayings

Global warming ... may be a plaintiff lawyer's dream. And it's interesting, in a perverse way, to imagine how a jury in 2050 might react to some of the recent industry-backed studies minimizing the dangers of global warming. I suspect future jurors will not be amused. — David Ignatius

The presuming social view that mental health is not as serious as the media says it is, blocks progress. This too is political. — Tamara Hill

long. Trade has always traveled and the world has always traded. Ours, though, is the era of extreme interdependence. Hardly any nation is now self-sufficient. In 2011, the United Kingdom shipped in half of its gas. The United States relies on ships to bring in two-thirds of its oil supplies. Every day, thirty-eight million tons of crude oil sets off by sea somewhere, although you may not notice it. As in Los Angeles, New York, and other port cities, London has moved its working docks out of the city, away from residents. Ships are bigger now and need deeper harbors, so they call at Newark or Tilbury or Felixstowe, not Liverpool or South Street. — Rose George

I suddenly had a little epiphany: all the books we own, both read and unread, are the fullest expression of self we have at our disposal. — Nick Hornby

When I speak, people know that in my gut, I'm bad. They feel better about being bad in their guts. — Kieron Gillen

Boomer took bites of all six varieties, contemplating each one and "guring out the order in which he would then eat them. "I like the
brown one and the lighter brown one and the almost-brown one. I'm not so sure about the minty one. But really, I think the lebkuchen spice
one is the best."
"The what?"
"The lebkuchen spice one." He held it up for me. "This one."
"You're making that up. What's a lebkuchen spice? It sounds like a cross between a Keebler elf and a stripper. Hello, my name ees
Lebkuchen Spice, and I vant to show you my cooooookies ... "
"Don't be rude!" Boomer protested. As if the cookie might be offended. — David Levithan

Far below ran the silver ribbon of the East River, braceleted by shining bridges, flecked by boats as small as flyspecks, splitting the shining banks of light that were Manhattan and Brooklyn on either side. — Cassandra Clare