Sudove Nabytky Quotes & Sayings

If we do not commend the Gospel to people by our holy walk and conversation, we shall not win them to Christ. Some little act of kindness will perhaps do more to influence them than any number of long sermons. — Dwight L. Moody

War's never a picnic. Although obviously soldiers do end up eating outdoors quite a lot. — David Mitchell

I never learned to count my blessings
I choose instead to dwell in my disasters — Ray Lamontagne

Never tolerate a toxic person in your organization. — Peter Diamandis

There happened in the Middle Ages what has happened so often since then. Those who were the beneficiaries of the established order were bent on defending it, not so much, perhaps, because it guaranteed their interests, as because it seemed to them indispensable to the preservation of society. — Henri Pirenne

Fantasy is one of the soul's brighter porcelains. — Pat Conroy

Wylan cleared his throat. "The chemistry is complicated. I was hoping Kuwei would help."
Nina said something to Kuwei in Shu. He shrugged and looked away, lip jutting out slightly. Whether it was the recent death of his father or the fact that he'd found himself stuck in a cemetery with a band of thieves, the boy had become increasingly sullen.
"Well?" Jesper prodded.
"I have other interests," Kuwei replied.
Kaz's black gaze pinned Kuwei like the tip of a dagger. "I suggest rethinking your priorities."
Jesper gave Kuwei another nudge. "That's Kaz's way of saying, 'Help Wylan or I'll seal you up in one of these tombs and see how that suits your interests.' "
Matthias was no longer sure what the Shu boy understood or didn't, but apparently he'd received the message. Kuwei swallowed and nodded grudgingly.
"The power of negotiation," Jesper said, and shoved a cracker in his mouth. — Leigh Bardugo

I was about to order Chinese when I looked out the window and saw you. Hey, do you two want to stay? We're getting moo shu."
It was so like Uncle Chris to go from wanting to beat John up one minute, to inviting him for moo shu the next.
"Uh, maybe," I said. I pointed to the French doors, looking questioningly at John. He nodded. "Let's see how it goes, okay, Uncle Chris?"
"That'd be good," Uncle Chris said. "We could talk all this out."
John followed me inside, Uncle Chris trailing behind us, his expression curious rather than suspicious.
"I hate it when families fight," Uncle Chris was saying. "It makes it so uncomfortable ... "
I suppose I should have counted it lucky that it had been Uncle Chris, and not some other adult, I'd run into first at home. I wasn't sure if it was because of all the years he'd sent out of mainstream society-he still had no idea how to text, or what Google was-or if his personality was really this childlike. — Meg Cabot