Sibyls Shrine Quotes & Sayings

It's in Latin."
"So? What does it say?"
"I don't read Latin!"
"You're kidding. I thought all geniuses read Latin. Isn't that the international language for smart people? — Rachel Caine

We cannot predict the future, but we can invent it. — Alan Kay

The world was her oyster, except she didn't care for oysters. Better yet, the world was her raspberry. She liked raspberries. — Kevin J. Anderson

"Was it okay?" he asked.
I smiled. "Better than okay."
"So I won my pass to date two?"
"You did."
"Good"
His face lowered toward mine and I knew what was coming. I knew it. But when his lips touched mine, I still jumped.
"S-sorry, I - I"
"Skittish as a cat," he murmured. — Kelley Armstrong

The girl-women scampered around a beach house in various states of preparative undress, wriggled into sundresses, shook out their hair ... They possessed a veneer of hotness, certainly, a sheen of sexual health. You could call them clean, chromatic, shapely, sun-kissed, and yes, even HOT
but you could never call them lovely, not in the way that Owen was lovely. — Chad Harbach

What I'm attempting to do is to show people that if I can spend some time with very dangerous spiders and snakes and scorpions, then maybe they'll feel different about the spiders and snakes they find around their areas. I don't need people to keep them as pets. I just like them to be respectful and see that everything in nature has its place. — Dominic Monaghan

Liberate yourself from the illusion of culture.
Take responsibility for what you think and what you do. — Terence McKenna

Perhaps what is really being proposed by the Evangelical fundamentalists is a return not to the 1950s family but to the family of biblical days. The Old Testament is clear that this was a strong patriarchal family. Men were permitted several wives and concubines. Children were legitimately conceived by these concubines outside of marriage ... Is this the Evangelical's idea of an ideal family? — Ira Reiss

Just as I opened the door from the boys' floor, I stumbled onto Mr. Farrow and that freakishly unhot witch from downstairs, Mrs. Singer.
Together.
Standing at the landing on the tenantless girls' floor. They were kissing, and it wasn't one of those innocent oh-hello-you-frosty-and-cadaverous-old-hag-from-downstairs-so-nice-to-see-you-this-afternoon pecks on the cheek, either. — Andrew Smith