Tree Tattoos Quotes & Sayings

Now my wandering days are over. It will be bliss to settle down. Bliss. There's a word, now. Bliss to love and to be loved. — Betty Smith

I'm. Not. A. Victim!" I growled low and clearly pronounced each word. "No? Then what are you?" he asked, angered by my words. "I'm a survivor. — Amelia Hutchins

He smiled at the sudden image of Prometheus tossing cars from one side of the bridge to the other to build his barrier. He heard the tiny tinkle of glass and wondered if being tossed across the Golden Gate Bridge by an Elder was covered by insurance. — Michael Scott

The one real thing that money buys - Time. — Marita Bonner

The theater is a school we shall never have done with studying and learning. — Robert Edmond Jones

I'm a very traditional person. The tattoos are about my grandmother dying and they tell the story about my mother and father, my brothers and my sister, my kids. It's pretty much a family tree on my arm with my life in football too. — Timothy F. Cahill

He who makes God act humanly, declares human activity to be divine[.] — Ludwig Feuerbach

There is nothing more certain in Time or Eternity than what Jesus Christ did on the Cross. — Oswald Chambers

If my life was a song the title would be 'Naima'. — Naima Adedapo

Mr. Ryker is fucking hot. Thick, bulging muscles worthy of a romance novel cover, long legs, big hands, a whole sleeve of floral tattoos. Yeah. Flowers. Fucking flowers on this man's massive bicep. He looks like he could crush a tree trunk with those long fingers. — C.M. Stunich

The greedy search for money or success will almost always lead men into unhappiness. Why? Because that kind of life makes them depend upon things outside themselves. — Andre Maurois

Don't let your idea of God be limited to the imagination of others. Don't let them define your God and don't let them tell you how to express your faith. — Steve Maraboli

I'm nineteen tree rings and mashed acorns stop up my veins when I can't clot. Oh god, you beautiful person, I'll let you lick the salt off of my tattoos as if they were wounds, wounds made of ink and stories. — Taylor Rhodes

Birthdays were wretched, delicious things when you lived in Beau Rivage. The clock stuck midnight, and presents gave way to magic.
Curses bloomed.
Girls bit into sharp apples instead of birthday cake, chocked on the ruby-and-white slivers, and collapsed into enchanted sleep. Unconscious beneath cobweb canopies, frozen in coffins of glass, they waited for their princes to come. Or they tricked ogres, traded their voices for love, danced until their glass slippers cracked.
A prince would awaken, roused by the promise of true love, and find he had a witch to destroy. A heart to steal. To tear from the rib cage, where it was cushioned by bloody velvet, and deliver it to the queen who demanded the princess's death.
Girls became victims and heroines.
Boys became lovers and murderers.
And sometimes ... they became both. — Sarah Cross

Crude classifications and false generalizations are the curse of the organized life. — H.G.Wells