Vasilika Vanya Quotes & Sayings

A clear picture of that which God wants for us is rarely clearly articulated".

~R. Alan Woods [2012] — R. Alan Woods

The Stoic assures us that what is happening now will happen over and over again. [If so, Providende would] ultimately grow weary through despair. — Bertrand Russell

Dong.
Dong.
Dong.
The third toll of the church bells hovered in the air, and everything became still. Someone in the village had died. Valerie froze.
Dong.
A forth toll shattered the silence. The world split open, exposing a raw inside.
Valerie and Peter looked at each other first in confusion, then in awful understanding.
The fourth bell meant only one thing: Wolf attack.
She had never heard the fourth bell except for the time she and Peter had rung it themselves.
With those bells, Valerie knew.
Life would never be the same, — Sarah Blakley-Cartwright

Politics is not perfect but it's the best available nonviolent means of changing how we live. — Maynard Jackson

In life one must decide whether to conjugate the verb to have or the verb to be. — Franz Liszt

Make the most of your yard of space and your inch of time. — Robert Shaw

Failing sucks. But it's better than the alternative."
"Which is?"
"Not even trying." Now he did look at me, straight on. "Life's short, you know? — Sarah Dessen

[ ... ] Depressive Episodes.
[I]Episodes.[/i] Like depression is a sitcom with a fun punch line each time. Or a TV box set loaded with cliffhangers. The only cliffhanger in my life is "Will I ever get rid of this s***?" And believe me, it gets pretty monotonous. — Sophie Kinsella

If you believe in the power of your own words, you don't need to quote others. — David Nicol

I love writing stories about regular people dealing with life's biggest questions. — Nick Blaemire

It's very sad that Tanzania is a poor football country. If elected, I promise to put this country on the world football map. I will make sure we produce our own Okochas, El Hadji Dioufs and Zinedine Zidanes here. — Jakaya Kikwete

I was also reminded of one of the unique charms of NYC in the summer: vast piles of rotting garbage piled on the sidewalks, with that sweet yet nauseating smell of decomposing groceries sitting in the humid fetid air, and rancid food juices oozing over the sticky sidewalks. With my windows open to counter the stuffiness, I could occasionally catch a whiff of the stench outside. People actually like living in this chaotic, fetid monument to incompetence? Beats me. — Andrew Sullivan