Vassilena Nikolov Quotes & Sayings

From reinforcing beaches in the Rockaways to installing generators at the Coney Island Houses and sealing holes in the subway system, New York is fortifying our ability to withstand future storm surges. — Frances Beinecke

The nature of living and loving is the act of reciprocity. As women, we are told that to be the guest is to receive. We are told that to be the host is to give. But what if it is the reverse? What if it is the guest who gives to the host and it is the host who receives from the guest each time she sets her table to welcome and feed those she loves? To be the guest and the host simultaneously is to imagine a mutual exchange of gifts predicated on respect and joy. If we could adopt this truth, perhaps we as women would be less likely to become martyrs. — Terry Tempest Williams

If you are insecure, guess what? The rest of the world is, too. Do not overestimate the competition and underestimate yourself. You are better than you think. — Timothy Ferriss

The historian always oversimplifies, and hastily selects a manageable minority of facts and faces out of a crowd of souls and events whose multitudinous complexity he can never quite embrace or comprehend. — Will Durant

My role was to pulse at the edge of the universe of the faithful, alone in the darkness. An outrider. A herald. — David Mitchell

Things were different when I was growing up. — Anne Frank

I would have to say my earthy sensuality - although I should point out that the backs of my calves are exemplary and my upper inner thigh is a delight. — Rob Brydon

What if today you gave yourself permission to be outrageously kind? What if you extended as much good will and kindness as you can possibly muster to every person you meet? And what if you did it with no thought of reward? I'm sure of one thing: it will be a day you will never regret. — Steve Goodier

It would seem that by our sorrows only are we called to a knowledge of the Infinite. Are we happy? The limits of life constrain us on all sides. — Sophie Swetchine

He thought. He wrote. He read. He ran and drank milk and concrete. He was cut into two. He bled. He died. — Patrick Downes