Stasiukas Quotes & Sayings

So now she and I are friends - not with benefits, but memories. — Sara Ryan

Countless candles dribbled with hot wax, and their flames, like little flags, fluttered in the unchartered currents of air. Thousands of lamps, naked, or shuttered behind coloured glass, burned with their glows of purple, amber, grass-green, blue, blood red and even grey. The walls of Gormenghast were like the walls of paradise or like the walls of an inferno. The colours were devilish or angelical according to the colour of the mind that watched them. They swam, those walls, with the hues of hell, with the tints of Zion. The breasts of the plumaged seraphim; the scales of Satan. — Mervyn Peake

In Italy, there are a lot of Coppolas - it's like being called Jones. No one really notices. — Gia Coppola

We will encourage more Americans to study in Muslim communities — Barack Obama

We're on vacation, Kaia, Strider grumbled. You weren't invited.
She waved away his words as if they were unimportant. Deep down I know you meant to invite me, so ta-da. Here I am. You're welcome.
It's scary how well you know us. Here, pay for this, William said, dumping his candy into Strider's arms. We'll be in the care. Making out. — Gena Showalter

Never assume the other fellow will not do something you wouldn't do. — Donald Rumsfeld

It was a warm, rainy, autumnal day. The wide expanse that opened out before the heights on which the Russian batteries stood guarding the bridge, was at times veiled by a diaphanous curtain of slanting rain, and then, suddenly spread out in the sunlight, far-distant objects could be clearly seen glittering as though freshly varnished. Down — Leo Tolstoy

Love isn't a smiling bride who holds a colorful bouquet and gazes lovingly at her husband; it's a corpse-littered battlefield where the walking wounded have to keep searching for survivors or die themselves. — Gary A. Braunbeck

Spiritual pride is the most dangerous and the most arrogant of all sorts of pride. — Samuel Richardson

This is the way we should see Christ. He is our friend, our brother; He is whatever is good and beautiful. He is everything. Yet, He is still a friend and He shouts it out, You're my friends, don't you understand that? We're brothers. I'm not ... I don't hold hell in my hands. I am not threatening you. I love you. I want you to enjoy life together with me. — Elder Porphyrios

God is not grieved because of "all the homosexuals." Not in the very least. That's religious people you're thinking of. If God is grieved it's because the beautiful, incomparable message of redemption and grace, the sweet peace of a loving relationship, has been truncated, rerouted into a message of behavior-modification and sin-management. For — Susan Cottrell

London is a friend whom I can leave knowing without doubt that she will be the same to me when I return, to-morrow or forty years hence, and that, if I do not return, she will sing the same song to inheritors of my happy lot in future generations. Always, whether sleeping or waking, I shall know that in Spring the sun rides over the silver streets of Kensington, and that in the Gardens the shorn sheep find very green pasture. Always the plaited threads of traffic will wind about the reel of London; always as you up Regent Street from Pall Mall and look back, Westminster will rise with you like a dim sun over the horizon of Whitehall. That dive down Fleet Street and up to the black and white cliffs of St. Paul's will for ever bring to mind some rumour of romance. There is always a romance that we leave behind in London, and always London enlocks that flower for us, and keeps it fresh, so that when we come back we have our romance again. — Stella Benson