Stregato In English Quotes & Sayings

Don't start me talking
I could talk all night
My mind goes sleepwalking
While I'm putting the world to right. — Elvis Costello

Butch nodded, finding as comfortable a bite as he could on the leather. He braced himself as V lifted an arm.
Except when his roommate's palm landed on his bare chest all he felt was a warm weight. Butch frowned. This was it? This was fucking it? Scaring the shit out of Marissa for no good-
He looked down, pissed off.
Oh, wrong hand. — J.R. Ward

I think listening to real classic soul material made me learn how to feel music that's sung. — Gavin DeGraw

I had very little confidence in myself as an actress. — Maude Adams

Do not expect justice where might is right. — Plato

The nice thing with the Arabs is that with age comes respect. — Maurice Flanagan

You know, in politics when you come in third, it's a win. — Paula Poundstone

Remember, I know what you are inside. Just a scared boy who tried to kill himself when he was too weak to save his wife from hanging. — Pierce Brown

He that can have patience can have what he will. — Benjamin Franklin

Sin in this country has been always said to be rather calculating than impulsive. — Frank Moore Colby

A book begins as a private excitement of the mind. — E.L. Doctorow

Under fun's new administration, writing fiction becomes a way to go deep inside yourself and illuminate precisely the stuff you don't want to see or let anyone else see, and this stuff usually turns out (paradoxically) to be precisely the stuff all writers and readers share and respond to, feel. Fiction becomes a weird way to countenance yourself and to tell the truth instead of being a way to escape yourself or to present yourself in a way you figure you will be maximally likable. This process is complicated and confusing and scary, and also hard work, but it turns out to be the best fun there is.
The fact that you can now sustain the fun of writing only by confronting the very same unfun parts of yourself you'd first used writing to avoid or disguise is another paradox, but this one isn't any kind of bind at all. What it is is a gift, a kind of miracle, and compared to it the reward of strangers' affection is as dust, lint. — David Foster Wallace