Unhumanly Wide Quotes & Sayings

The wreath of cigarette smoke which curls about the head of the growing lad holds his brain in an iron grip which prevents it from growing and his mind from developing just as surely as the iron shoe does the foot of the Chinese girl. — Hudson Maxim

India is a curious place that still preserves the past, religions, and its history. No matter how modern India becomes, it is still very much an old country. — Anita Desai

Thoughts become things? True, but that analysis is not complete - we need to add two more words: thoughts become things through energy. — Ilchi Lee

Our Heavenly Father does bless us when we show our love for Him in all things. — Margaret D. Nadauld

So long as the deceit ran along quiet and monotonous, all of us let ourselves be deceived, abetting it unawares or maybe through cowardice ... — William Faulkner

Great drama is all about conflict, and what's a better conflict than Republican-Democrat? — Allison Janney

All the citizens of a state cannot be equally powerful, but they may be equally free — Voltaire

As a painter, I realized that what we see is just manifestation of unseen power. Since then [1958 Coup in Iraq], reality started to take another form in my mind. Hence, I was aware of deception of our senses. — Ala Bashir

Rincewind had always been happy to think of himself as a racist. The One Hundred Meters, the Mile, the Marathon
he'd run them all. — Terry Pratchett

As a mother would see her child, you should see the whole world as a beautiful place that God has created for you. — Nirmala Srivastava

Because when I pray, I say your name first, and I say your name last. When I breathe, I breathe for you. Every kind thing I say, every good thing I do, I do because I know you're in the world and I ... I love you. — Christina Dodd

And then, before I could shout in alarm, the tear spilled free - and there was nothing for me to do but rush past and, with the smallest draft, ever so slightly alter its flight. The tear landed, safely, on her cheek. Her eyes snapped open in surprise. — Tom McNeal

Boy and Egg
Every few minutes, he wants
to march the trail of flattened rye grass
back to the house of muttering
hens. He too could make
a bed in hay. Yesterday the egg so fresh
it felt hot in his hand and he pressed it
to his ear while the other children
laughed and ran with a ball, leaving him,
so little yet, too forgetful in games,
ready to cry if the ball brushed him,
riveted to the secret of birds
caught up inside his fist,
not ready to give it over
to the refrigerator
or the rest of the day. — Naomi Shihab Nye