Sophrosyne In A Sentence Quotes & Sayings

I love you."
"Why?" I ask, eyes drifting closed already.
"Because I can't picture a life without you," he whispers so low I barely catch it. "I don't want to."
I smile as much as I can with how sleepy I am. He didn't even rehearse that one.
His lips graze my forehead. "Why do you love me?"
"Because you say things like that."
"Wow. My answer was so much better than yours. — Cassie Mae

People forget what it was like to be young, the stuff I'm expressing now is for the first time. — Joss Stone

Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others — KJV Publishing

We're always attracted to characters who are people we could identify with and yet are put through incredibly tortured or difficult circumstances - the idea being that you don't really know who you are until you've been tested or suffered in some way. — Erich Hoeber

Just as Marx used to say about the French Marxists of the late 'seventies: All I know is that I am not a Marxist. — Friedrich Engels

I have been working since I was 14, nonstop. — Liv Tyler

The greatest mistake is to think that we ever know why we do things ... I suppose the nearest we can ever come to it is by getting what old people call 'experience.' But by the time we've got that we're no longer the persons who did the things we no longer understand. The trouble is, I suppose, that we change every moment; and the things we did stay. — Edith Wharton

Attention leads to connection, connection to regulation, regulation to order, and order to ease (as opposed to dis-ease), or, more colloquially, to health. — Jon Kabat-Zinn

I feel like my life is just passing me by like two ships in the night. And I have missed both boats. — Jane Wagner

Impact of this makeover has been to significantly impede historical research, and it is one of Ataturk's most devastating accomplishments. — Eric Bogosian

God never jests with us, and will not compromise the end of nature, by permitting any inconsequence in its procession. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

History counts its skeletons in round numbers.
A thousand and one remains a thousand,
as though the one had never existed:
an imaginary embryo, an empty cradle,
...
emptiness running down steps toward the garden,
nobody's place in line. — Wislawa Szymborska