Scalapino Restaurant Quotes & Sayings

He put his chin on the top of my head. "I know." He wrapped both arms around me just above my chest and pulled me against him. - Stefan (Bone Crossed) — Patricia Briggs

His act may start out slow, but it tapers off. — Lawrence Welk

When I have conversations with people, for some strange reason they think I'm gonna die and they're not. But you know what? Death means nothing to me. — Curtis Jackson

Think of the compost bin as a living organism. It is, in fact, made up of colonies of bacteria. A live bin is hot at the center and produces a thick, loamy substance. If a bin is cold and dead, but has true compost at the center, it needs to be turned. Use a pitchfork or shovel to mix and shuffle the bin's contents. — Amelia Barrows

Me?" Penny's voice, surprised. "Well, I'm Penny Ngwenya, Matthew's butt-kicking, life-saving, totally awesome apprentice. Um. Hi. — Kate Griffin

And I have one of those very loud, stupid laughs. I mean if I ever sat behind myself in a movie or something, I'd probably lean over and tell myself to please shut up. — J.D. Salinger

I'm not a fashionista, definitely. I'm an actress. I have a great team working with me. — Stephanie Sigman

Fiction isn't bad. It is vital. Without commonly accepted stories about things like money, states or corporations, no complex human society can function. We can't play football unless everyone believes in the same made-up rules, and we can't enjoy the benefits of markets and courts without similar make-believe stories. But stories are just tools. They shouldn't become our goals or our yardsticks. When we forget that they are mere fiction, we lose touch with reality. Then we begin entire wars 'to make a lot of money for the cooperation' or 'to protect the national interest'. Corporations, money and nations exist only in our imagination. We invented them to serve us; why do we find ourselves sacrificing our life in their service. — Yuval Noah Harari

It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks — Johnny Cash

Verily, I say unto thee, many are the adepts that have looked upon the back parts of my father, and cried, our eyes fail before the glory of thy countenance. — Aleister Crowley

Some genius of the South
With blood-hot eyes and cane-lipped scented mouth,
Surprised in making folk-songs from soul sounds. — Jean Toomer