Sirandu Quotes & Sayings

Sphere Music - Some sounds seem to reverberate along the plain, and then settle to earth again like dust; such are Noise, Discord, Jargon. But such only as spring heavenward, and I may catch from steeples and hilltops in their upward course, which are the more refined parts of the former, are the true sphere music - pure, unmixed music - in which no wail mingles. — Henry David Thoreau

Did you learn to drive - by playing Mario Kart - "
"I've never put a Mario in a cart and I never will. — Eva Morgan

Sometimes I think there's a beast that lives inside me, in the cavern that's where my heart should be, and every now and then it fills every last inch of my skin, so that I can't help but do something inappropriate. Its breath is full of lies; it smells of spite. — Jodi Picoult

We are ready to end fascism once and for all, even in spite of the Republican government. — Buenaventura Durruti

Tequila is like acid in a glass. — Greg Proops

That's what it is to love someone: to give whatever you can while taking what you must. — Hillary Jordan

Men are fantastic - as a concept. — Jo Brand

The Tao has no place for pettiness, and nor has Virtue. Pettiness is dangerous to Virtue; pettiness is dangerous to the Tao. It is said, rectify yourself and be done. — Zhuangzi

You're asking me to look into the future and give you guarantees. Magic isn't a recipe for baking cake. — Martina Boone

Nobody has ever written as many enjoyable, fun-to-read crime novels as Agatha Christie. It's all about the storytelling and the pleasure of the reader. She doesn't want to be deep or highbrow. — Sophie Hannah

Chess is a thinking person's game. But you don't have to be smart to know what's funny! Lots of check, mate! — Steve Breen

Take a stress pill and think things over
HAL in 2001 — Stanley Kubrick

You must speak straight so that your words may go as sunlight into our hearts. — Cochise "Like Ironweed"

American movies, English books - remember how they all end?" Gamini asked that night. "The American or the Englishman gets on a plane and leaves. That's it. The camera leaves with him. He looks out of the window at Mombasa or Vietnam or Jakarta, someplace now he can look at through the clouds. The tired hero. A couple of words to the girl beside him. He's going home. So the war, to all purposes, is over. That's enough reality for the West. It's probably the history of the last two hundred years of Western political writing. Go home. Write a book. Hit the circuit. — Michael Ondaatje