Soll Quotes & Sayings

But now that the guerrilla fighting is over, the Spaniards are again men without a country or families or homes or work, though everyone appreciates very much what they did. — Martha Gellhorn

But gentlemen, as long as I am an American Citizen, and as long as American blood runs in these veins, I shall hold myself at liberty to speak, to write, and to publish whatever I please on any subject. — Elijah Parish Lovejoy

I'll always be limited because I'm me and he's he. I could put myself in his situation and walk in his shoes, but they'd always be my feet. — Michael Soll

What will allow you to enter the world of great relationships is living in accord with the simple but powerful Laws of Love. — Chris Prentiss

The more power you have, the less you can truly say. That's the irony. — Michael Soll

Man soll bauen als wollt man ewig leben, und also leben als sollt man morgen sterben.
One should build as if one would live forever, and live as though one would die tomorrow. — Martin Luther

It is true to say that the secret of a winning formula is the ability to accept that there is a vast area of unexploited potential beyond what you currently perceive to be your maximum. — Steve Backley

I get it. Sometimes you want to remember. And sometimes you need to forget. — Lisa Schroeder

It is necessary to ensure that the requirement to combat terrorism is not used to clamp down on freedom of expression, legitimate dissent, freedom of association and so on. — Mary Robinson

You see a moment from only one angle. You see in only two dimensions. You cannot see that the line is actually a circle. You've never been forced to step around a situation and view it from another perspective. You stand glued to your spot as the world turns if front of you and you assume what you see is the only. But it's not. You are one man in one place in one moment is time. You rule this space, but one quake can fill the hole. One solar flare can destroy everything that is you. — Michael Soll

Everything's a conspiracy and everything's not a conspiracy. You could look at this planet and go, "This is all a conspiracy. God made this to test us to see if we'll use the nukes." You can let your mind believe anything. — Harland Williams

People would pay money to work at CNN. — Larry King

If at bight you can't sleep, don't count sheep - talk to the Shepherd — Evelyn Christenson

I want something new. I want something I've never seen or heard or imagined. I want a spark. I want to be ignited. I want my flesh scorched and imagination set ablaze. — Michael Soll

The problem with thick skin is that it leaves you impervious to the sharpest of pins. Everything becomes dull. But without that sense of pain, there cannot be that sense of relief. Ultimately, the thickened skin leaves you numb, incapable of feeling the highs and lows of life. It leaves you rough like a rock and just as inanimate. — Michael Soll

What is illusion?
M.: To whom is the illusion? Find it out. Then illusion will vanish.
Generally people want to know about illusion and do not examine
to whom it is. It is foolish. Illusion is outside and unknown. But
the seeker is considered to be known and is inside. Find out what
is immediate, intimate, instead of trying to find out what is distant
and unknown. — Ramana Maharshi

Why is it all Mr. Dibbler's films are set against the background of a world gone mad?" said the dwarf. Soll's eyes narrowed. "Because Mr. Dibbler," he growled, "is a very observant man." Dibbler — Terry Pratchett

He was a second too late. Ducking, the felt-capped man, muscles hard, dragged himself out of that grasp and, flinging off to one side, got his balance, glanced once at Jerott, and then darted off into the darkness. After the first step, breathing hard, Jerott stayed where he was, swearing. But he could hardly leave Lymond. He looked up. 'Bravo,' said Francis Crawford, sitting crosslegged on top of the wall, his hood shaken free on his shoulders. 'You're a credit to the bloody Order, aren't you? You know you've got a knife in your hand? — Dorothy Dunnett

Her poetry is written on the ghost of trees, whispered on the lips of lovers.
As a little girl, she would drift in and out of libraries filled with dead poets and their musky scent. She held them in her hands and breathed them in
wanting so much to be part of their world ...
It was on her sixteenth birthday that she first fell in love. With a boy who brought her red roses and white lies. When he broke her heart, she cried for days.
Then hopeful, she sat with a pen in her hand, poised over the blank white sheet, but it refused to draw blood ...
She learned too late that poets are among the damned, cursed to commiserate over their loss, to reach with outstretched hands
hands that will never know the weight of what they seek. — Lang Leav

When you're constantly thinking of others and what they must be thinking or feeling or expecting, you wind up in this perpetual state of trying to please them. You see yourself through their eyes and you lose sight of who you are. — Michael Soll