Stebbens Quotes & Sayings

All is not done when we have spoken to God by prayer; our petitions are to be pursued with real endeavours. — Benjamin Whichcote

When somebody would come in with a sketch that was not so good, you figured out in a room how to make that sketch work. — Robert Ben Garant

Be loving, and you will never want for love; be humble, and you will never want for guiding. — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik

I am much less concerned with whatever it is technology may be doing to people that what people are choosing to do to one another through technology. Facebook's reduction of people to predictively modeled profiles and investment banking's convolution of the marketplace into an algorithmic battleground were not the choices of machines. — Douglas Rushkoff

Because something inside me had changed and I realized things would never be the same. — Linda DeMeulemeester

She simply could not imagine lives ending so soon. Oh, you poor young men, she thought wildly. — Paul Russell

A purpose of our lives is to broaden what we can understand and say and therefore be. — Salman Rushdie

After all, our lives are but a sequence of accidents - a clanking chain of chance events. A string of choices, casual or deliberate, which add up to that one big calamity we call life. — Rohinton Mistry

It was a great love," she said. "Don't let anyone tell you differently. Take good care of yourself. You'll be happy with someone else. — Erick Setiawan

Tools are neither demonic nor divine. It's all about who wields them. — Neal Shusterman

For every prohibition you create, you also create an underground. — Jello Biafra

No distinction in kind rather than degree between ourselves and the chimps? No distinction? Seriously, folks? Here is a simple operational test: the chimpanzees invariably are the one behind the bars of their cages. — David Berlinski

Pain is temporary. Eventually it will subside. If I quit, however, the surrender stays with me. — Lance Armstrong

Or there, in the clay-baked piedmont of the South, that lean and tan-faced boy who sprawls there in the creaking chair among admiring cronies before the open doorways of the fire department, and tells them how he pitched the team to shut-out victory to-day. What visions burn, what dreams possess him, seeker of the night? The packed stands of the stadium, the bleachers sweltering with their unshaded hordes, the faultless velvet of the diamond, unlike the clay-balked outfields down in Georgia. The mounting roar of eighty thousand voices and Gehrig coming up to bat, the boy himself upon the pitching mound, the lean face steady as a hound's; then the nod, the signal, and the wind-up, the rawhide arm that snaps and crackles like a whip, the small white bullet of the blazing ball, its loud report in the oiled pocket of the catcher's mitt, the umpire's thumb jerked upwards, the clean strike. — Thomas Wolfe

Division has done more to hide Christ from the view of men than all the infidelity that has ever been spoken. — George MacDonald