Strijdersbond Quotes & Sayings

When I was 11, I knew that I wanted to write a kid's book and tell the world what it was like being deaf. — Marlee Matlin

The excellent fail more often than the mediocre. — Eric Greitens

It was all collecting inside there, gathering like dust, building, building up, until someday there would be enough for some part to pierce the surface of her silence and gasp out a piece of what lay beneath. — Alexandra Kleeman

I am utterly in love with you. I've been in love with you all my whole life. I've been in love with you your whole life. I don't know how to live without being in love with you, and I don't want to know. — Sarah Rees Brennan

When I jerked it out the head remained in my leg, where it remains still. There were a couple of inches of blood on the shaft of the arrow when I pulled it out. — George Crook

I own almost 100 hotels in North America. Some of them are only in management, but some of them we have some small stakes in them. — Al-Waleed Bin Talal

I'm not ready to be a woman yet, I'd like it if my body were more boyish. Maybe I'll like my curves when I'm older but right now they kind of make me squirm. — Vanessa Marcil

The stuff of nightmare is their plain bread. They butter it with pain. They set their clocks by deathwatch beetles, and thrive the centuries. They were the men with the leather-ribbon whips who sweated up the Pyramids seasoning it with other people's salt and other people's cracked hearts. They coursed Europe on the White Horses of the Plague. They whispered to Caesar that he was mortal, then sold daggers at half-price in the grand March sale. Some must have been lazing clowns, foot props for emperors, princes, and epileptic popes. Then out on the road, Gypsies in time, their populations grew as the world grew, spread, and there was more delicious variety of pain to thrive on. The train put wheels under them and here they run down the log road out of the Gothic and baroque; look at their wagons and coaches, the carving like medieval shrines, all of it stuff once drawn by horses, mules, or, maybe, men. — Ray Bradbury

In the middle of the night, things well up from the past that are not always cause for rejoicing
the unsolved, the painful encounters, the mistakes, the reasons for shame or woe. But all, good or bad, give me food for thought, food to grow on. — May Sarton