Samraj Sweets Quotes & Sayings

It's important that a woman doesn't feel like the ugly sister. The second, lesser choice. That's a bitterness that won't sweeten. — Emma Chase

I often said that writers are of two types.
There is the architect, which is one type. The architect, as if designing a building, lays out the entire novel at a time. He knows how many rooms there will be or what a roof will be made of or how high it will be, or where the plumbing will run and where the electrical outlets will be in its room. All that before he drives the first nail. Everything is there in the blueprint.
And then there's the gardener who digs the hole in the ground, puts in the seed and waters it with his blood and sees what comes up. The gardener knows certain things. He's not completely ignorant. He knows whether he planted an oak tree, or corn, or a cauliflower. He has some idea of the shape but a lot of it depends on the wind and the weather and how much blood he gives it and so forth.
No one is purely an architect or a gardener in terms of a writer, but many writers tend to one side or the other. I'm very much more a gardener. — George R R Martin

Yes, I am optimistic about the environment. If you assume business is exerting the most negative influence on the environment and also has the possibility to impact it positively, there are a bunch of forces that are impacting business that are fundamentally different from the situation 3 or 4 years ago. — Jeffrey Hollender

Puberty was very vague. I literally locked myself in a room and played guitar. — Johnny Depp

Oh, the time we spent alone
The hours wishing we could have it back again
Lie in bed awake wishing for each other — Alysha Speer

When I was in fifth grade, a boy put a rose on my desk and I threw it away. The attention makes me nervous. — Claire Coffee

Then I probably fainted. The woman at the registration desk managed to put on a sympathetic expression afterward, as if she wanted to ask, "What are you going to do now?" I told her not to worry, I was really leaving, I was going home.
But go home where? Without my children I no longer had a home. — Barbara Honigmann