Storsteinnes Quotes & Sayings

There's not much that I'm closed off about, and the universe gave me all that so I could help people feel like they don't have to be something they're not or feel like they have to fake happy. There's nothing worse than being fake happy. — Miley Cyrus

I feel like I'm addicted to the printed word. — Paula Danziger

Spring drew on ... and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps. — Charlotte Bronte

I moved to assist, but never got the chance. there was some pretty violent banging for a minute, and then a tearing sound. Finally the stall door flew open, and Ray's shirtless body emerged and started bitch-slapping everything in sight.
His aim was off, probably due to the difficulty of having his eyes on the other side of the room, but he made up for it with sheer determination. — Karen Chance

What is it you do, then? I'll tell you: You leave out whatever doesn't suit you. As the author himself has done before you. Just as you leave things out of your dreams and fantasies. By leaving things out, we bring beauty and excitement into the world. We evidently handle our reality by effecting some sort of compromise with it, an in-between state where the emotions prevent each other from reaching their fullest intensity, graying the colors somewhat. Children who haven't yet reached that point of control are both happier and unhappier than adults who have. And yes, stupid people also leave things out, which is why ignorance is bliss. So I propose, to begin with, that we try to love each other as if we were characters in a novel who have met in the pages of a book. Let's in any case leave off all the fatty tissue that plumps up reality. — Robert Musil

Okay," I said, "so what does all that have to do with his dead mistress, her dead ex-boyfriend with the dirty pictures or the entire Rossetti crime family?" Trixie shrugged. "I dunno, let's go ask him." "Ask who?" I said, a little lost. "Roger Mayfield," she said simply. "Isn't that what I wanted to do at nine o'clock in the morning?" I asked, annoyed. "Nine thirty-seven," she reminded. "And there's a difference." "Which is?" I asked. "When you wanted to do it, it was a stupid idea," she said with a smile. — Gregg Taylor