Sonneblom Quotes & Sayings

He dreamed in ticker tape and calliope colors. — Bruce Olds

Before you speak, think if what you intend to say catches in one of the three sieves:
1. The sieve of truth
2. The sieve of love
3. The sieve of necessity — Socrates

If people are going to complain about stereotyping, it's as likely to be Italian-Americans as gay people. — Jason Bateman

Sadness is not necessarily something bad. Don't judge it as a bad or negative quality. — Rajneesh

No matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible. — George Chakiris

A celebrity life can be very fast-paced, and it can be hard to find meaning in it. I believe that everyone is looking for the answers, but the answers are within ourselves. — Miranda Kerr

Whatever politicians, activists and manipulators propose, it is the phlegmatic, indifferent, ingrained electorate which disposes. — Don Aitkin

The single most important condition for literacy learning is the presence of mentors who are joyfully literate people. — Shirley Brice Heath

All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are. — William Shakespeare

It was treacherous. I think someone was injured. But I did love being there, we all did. — Madeleine Stowe

And one of the elders of the city , said , speak to us of good and evil.
And he answered :
You are good in countless ways , and you are not evil when you are not good . — Kahlil Gibran

A preconceived conclusion can exist and slant the findings toward that suspect. — John Grisham

Hearing that [David] Bowie passed was like you don't really believe it. It's as if the sky shifted a little bit, to remind you it was there. — Babatunde Adebimpe

Whether by chance conjunction or not, the "wind-up bird" was a powerful presence in Cinnamon's story. The cry of this bird was audible only to certain special people, who were guided by it toward inescapable ruin. The will of human beings meant nothing, then, as the veterinarian always seemed to feel. People were no more than dolls set on tabletops, the springs in their backs wound up tight, dolls set to move in ways they could not choose, moving in directions they could not choose. Nearly all within range of the wind-up bird's cry were ruined, lost. Most of them died, plunging over the edge of the table. — Haruki Murakami