Tackiest Lipstick Quotes & Sayings

There's a kind of radar that you get, after years of being talked about and made fun of by other people. You can almost smell it when it's about to happen, can recognize instantly the sound of a hushed voice, lowered just enough to make whatever is said okay. I had only been in Colby for a few weeks. But I had not forgotten. — Sarah Dessen

Love is blind. Marriage is an eye-opener. — Leonard Ravenhill

The midget, Bush, and that Rumsfeld deserve only to be beaten with shoes by freedom loving people everywhere. — Mohammed Saeed Al-Sahaf

It is as though the ancestors who made language and knew from what bestiality its use rescued them are saying to us: Beware of interfering with its purpose! For when language is seriously interfered with, when it is disjoined from truth, be it from mere incompetence or worse, from malice, horrors can descend again on mankind. — Chinua Achebe

Nothing is more tragic than failure to discover one's true business in life, or to find that one has drifted or been forced by circumstance into an uncongenial calling. — John Dewey

When I look at nature I feel as if I'll be able to paint it all, note it all down, and then you might as well forget it once you're working ... — Claude Monet

Of course we all would like to foretell the future and make contact with the gods. — Carl Sagan

The fear of failure is not just the greatest fear of man, it is the fear of man. All other fears are avatars of the fear of failure. — Anup Kochhar

Cognition is the mental transformation of sensory input into knowledge about the environment and the flexible application of this knowledge. — Frans De Waal

as a painter who can have his subject for short sittings only prepares his palette, and from what he remembers and from rough notes does in advance everything which he possibly can do in the sitter's absence. — Marcel Proust

I've given up on Lulu before. In Utrecht. In Mexico. But that felt like surrendering. Like it was me I was really giving up on. This feels different, somehow. Like maybe Lulu brought me to this place, and for the first time in a long time, I'm on the cusp of something real. Maybe this is the point of it all. Maybe this is where the road is meant to end. I think of the postcards I left in her suitcase. I'd written sorry on one of them. Only now do I understand what I really should've written was thank you.
"Thank you," I say quietly to the empty house. I know she'll never hear it, but somehow that seems besides the point. — Gayle Forman