Surveying And Engineering Quotes & Sayings

Pound St. Paul's Church into atoms, and consider any single atom; it is to be sure, good for nothing; but put all these atoms together, and you have St. Paul's Church. So it is with human felicity, which is made up of many ingredients, each of which may be shown to be very insignificant. — Samuel Johnson

in his view, literature's worth lies in its power of mystification, in mystification it has its truth; therefore a fake, as the mystification of a mystification, is tantamount to a truth squared. He — Italo Calvino

Some things are best left unsaid, sweetling."
"Even when we are alone?"
"*Especially* when we are alone. — George R R Martin

No one questioned "who is a Serb, who is a Croat, who is a Muslim (Bosniak)" we were all one people, that's how it was back then, and I still think it is that way today. — Josip Broz Tito

If you are that patient, your mind is more settled, and what you do will be more perfect. If you are unsettled and anxious to get the result, you are already disturbed; nothing done with that disturbed mind will have quality. So, it is not only how long you practice, but with what patience, what earnestness and what quality also. — Swami Satchidananda

Only women could bleed without injury or death; only they rose from the gore each month like a phoenix; only their bodies were in tune with the ululations of the universe and the timing of the tides. Without this innate lunar cycle, how could men have a sense of time, tides, space, seasons, movement of the universe, or the ability to measure anything at all? How could men mistress the skills of measurement necessary for mathematics, engineering, architecture, surveying - and so many other professions? In Christian churches, how could males, lacking monthly evidence of Her death and resurrection, serve the Daughter of the Goddess? In Judaism, how could they honor the Matriarch without the symbol of Her sacrifices recorded in the Old Ovariment? Thus insensible to the movements of the planets and the turning of the universe, how could men become astronomers, naturalists, scientists - or much of anything at all? — Gloria Steinem

As a society of unbelief, Western culture is devoid of a sense of journey, of adventure, because it lacks belief in much more than the cultivation of an ever-shrinking horizon of self-preservation and and self-expression. — Stanley Hauerwas

The Soul of Money is an inspired and utterly fascinating book. It will change the way you think about money ... It is a book for everyone who would like to make the world a better place. — Jane Goodall

Incidentally, an Excel cell can hold approximately 32,000 characters. — Nancy Conner

Those who feel guilty contemplating "betraying" the tradition they love by acknowledging their disapproval of elements within it should reflect on the fact that the very tradition to which they are so loyal - the "eternal" tradition introduced to them in their youth - is in fact the evolved product of many adjustments firmly but delicately made by earlier lovers of the same tradition. — Daniel Dennett

Hey a rant. Haven't done one of those in a while. S'good to stretch out the Longevitus Ranticus section of the brain once in a while, otherwise you just become passive and might even- god forbid- lose the ability to stretch it in the first place. — Joseph Bullock

God thought he could orgasm right there in the dirty alley from the way Day was tongue fucking his mouth. God took as much as he could before he yanked his face away and gasped for air. "Jesus, sweetheart." Day groaned. "Need you so fucking bad right now. Come home with me." It was a demand not a request. Day grabbed God's cock and gave it a hard squeeze. "Ugh. Fuck yes," God hissed. "Want you out of this dirty alley and in my bed in one hour, and don't fucking keep me waiting," Day demanded and turned to walk away without a backward look. Yeah, make me pay, sweetheart. God — A.E. Via

Everything is funny from some angle, I assure you it is. It's just a matter of where you're standing. — Charlie Fletcher

By the time they had called at the baker's and climbed to the top of Cap Diamant, the sun, dropping with incredible quickness, had already disappeared. They sat down in the blue twilight to eat their bread and await the turbid afterglow which is peculiar to Quebec in autumn; the slow, rich, prolonged flowing-back of crimson across the sky, after the sun has sunk behind the dark ridges of the west. Because of the haze in the air the colour seems thick, like a heavy liquid, welling up wave after wave, a substance that throbs, rather than a light. — Willa Cather

Is that your final answer? — Regis Philbin