Sorrier Than Gouge Quotes & Sayings

AFFUSION (AFFU'SION) n.s.[affusio, Lat.]The act of pouring one thing upon another. Upon the affusion of a tincture of galls, it immediately became as black as ink.Grew'sMusaeum. — Samuel Johnson

Anyway I feel myself a bit on the edge on the art world, but I don't mind, I'm just pursuing my work in a very excited way. And there isn't really a mainstream anymore, is there? — David Hockney

My middle name should be 'Drama,' but I love it. I think everyone should have some kind of stress in their life; otherwise, it's boring isn't it? — Katie Price

Life has taught me to be very cautious of a man with a dream, especially a man who has teetered on the edge of life. It gives a fire and recklessness inside that is hard to quantify. It can also make them fun to be around. — Bear Grylls

Everything else happened - why not the things that could have? — Jonathan Safran Foer

Don't spend a lot of time imagining the worst-case scenario. It rarely goes down as you imagine it will, and if by some fluke it does, you will have lived it twice. — Michael J. Fox

She took comfort in the familiarity of his smell, knowing that if she lost all her possessions and her home, at least she would have her family. — Sage Steadman

Remember to have a little faith. When you die, I believe, God isn't going to ask you what you published. God's going to ask you what you wrote. — T.M. McNally

Such things are real problems, they are serious matters to us, they cannot be otherwise. Here, on the borders of death, life follows an amazingly simply course, it is limited to what is most necessary, all else lies buried in gloomy sleep; - in that besides our primitiveness and our survival. Were we more subtly differentiated we must long since have gone mad, have deserted, or have fallen. As in a polar expedition, every expression of life must serve only the preservation of existence, and is absolutely focused on that. All else is banished because it would consume — Erich Maria Remarque

I waver, continually fly to the summit of the mountain, but cannot stay up there for more than a moment. Others waver too, but in lower regions, with greater strength; if they are in danger of falling, they are caught up by the kinsman who walks beside them for that purpose. But I waver on the heights; it is not death, alas, but the eternal torments of dying. — Franz Kafka