Vedere Italian Quotes & Sayings

Behold!" I bellowed. "'Tis a foul beast of the nether-hells. Stand behind me and I shall slay it!"
"Oh, Alcatraz," Bastille breathed. "Thou art awesomish and manlyish. — Brandon Sanderson

But there remained a reflective solitude behind that laughter, that nagging sense of completion that didn't sit well on the shoulders of a woman who had just begun to open her eyes to the wide world. — R.A. Salvatore

I started to see that my concept of spirituality was totally wrong. — Lauryn Hill

There were some older guitarists on my side of town, and I got to know many of them. — Tommy Shaw

Rosie: I know, I'm working on it but I can't quit until I get another job and that's proving to be rather difficult. Apparently no one really cares about whether or not you work as a secretary in a paper-clip factory.
Ruby: Hmm ... how odd ... And it sounds so glamorous, you would think ... Honestly, some people ...
Ahern, Cecelia (2005-02-01). Love, Rosie (p. 87). Hachette Books. Kindle Edition. — Cecelia Ahern

Remember that you are but an actor, acting whatever part the Master has ordained. It may be short or it may be long. If he wishes you to represent a poor man, do so heartily; if a cripple, or a magistrate, or a private man, in each case act your part with honor. — Epictetus

The only difference between 'try' and 'triumph' is varying degrees of 'umph' — Bear Grylls

I feel hurt or attacked, jealousy or fear, what works for me is thinking of life as an adventure. This way, I remember that all these feelings or situations are part of a greater whole and that they need to be there to make life exactly what it is. — Richard Brancatisano

Far worse, though, was a low, powerful moaning at dusk. The wind off the sea and the odd interior stillness dulled our ability to gauge direction, so that the sound seemed to infiltrate the black water that soaked the cypress trees. This water was so dark we could see our faces in it, and it never stirred, set like glass, reflecting the beards of gray moss that smothered the cypress trees. If you looked out through these areas, toward the ocean, all you saw was the black water, the gray of the cypress trunks, and the constant, motionless rain of moss flowing down. All you heard was the low moaning. The effect of this cannot be understood without being there. The beauty of it cannot be understood, either, and when you see beauty in desolation it changes something inside you. Desolation tries to colonize you. As — Jeff VanderMeer