Uniformes Para Quotes & Sayings

Go on, my friend, and fear nothing; you carry Caesar and his fortune in your boat. — Julius Caesar

You do need prayer, more than you know, ' Carita said softly. 'Prayer is the keynote. Prayer isn't the preparation to accomplish the purposes of Adon Olam. It is the accomplishment of His purposes. Great works are done through prayer. — Erika Mathews

Now that I am moving, I am afraid. Where am I going? — Anais Nin

A kid ran into the darkness. His clothing was on fire; the flames streamed behind him as he fled screaming. — Michael Grant

Above all, trust your instincts. If she's the right one, you'll know. If she's not, let her go and be thankful that she was an almost. — Rich Marcello

You have such dreams in your eyes. — R.K. Lilley

So, who's going to tell Mrs Beale she's got a month to plan a wedding feast ?"
Hell's fire. Mrs Beale was a marvelous cook. She also had what he considered an unnatural relationship with her meat cleaver. Since he'd inherited SaDiablo Hall, he had gained a finer appreciation of why his father had stayed away from anything to do with the kitchen unless cornered. The woman was downright scary at times.
The fact that she and Beale, the Hall's butler, were happily married was something he tried not to think about because it made him wonder things about Beale he'd rather not wonder.
"If we both went to Amdarh, we could just write her a note," Jaenelle said.
He looked at Jaenelle. She looked at him.
"Good idea," he said. — Anne Bishop

The greatest of poems is an inventory.
Every kitchen tool becomes ideal because Crusoe might have dropped it
in the sea. It is a good exercise, in empty or ugly hours of the day, to
look at anything, the coal-scuttle or the book-case, and think how happy
one could be to have brought it out of the sinking ship on to the
solitary island. — G.K. Chesterton

Given everything he'd put me through, he was seriously lucky that's all I took a knife to. Don't think I didn't fantasize about going all Lorena Bobbitt on his ass. — Brandi Glanville

My mom was a ventriloquist and she always was throwing her voice. For ten years I thought the dog was telling me to kill my father. — Wendy Liebman

There are joys which long to be ours — Henry Ward Beecher