Vejaciones Demoniacas Quotes & Sayings

The ascendency of the sacerdotal order was long the ascendency which naturally and properly belonged to intellectual superiority. — Thomas B. Macaulay

Don't do that. Don't make any part of this about me not wanting you, because you know that's bullshit," I warned him. "Okay." "I will be all over you if that's what you want." "Yes," he croaked out. "That's what I fuckin' want." I lunged at him, hugging him tight, crushing him against me as I pressed my lips to his ear. "I love you, Ian Doyle. Only you, and every time you go away it fuckin' kills me. I don't ever want to us to be apart. — Mary Calmes

The scanning of barcodes, or the reading of RFID transponders, generates data that is used in a software package to provide management or control information. — Mike Marsh

I don't know that I'm 'hangdog'. That suggests someone skulking around, unengaged. I'm not. I'm 'engaged', believe me. I have just got a slightly sad face. — Stephen Rea

Very little worth knowing is taught by fear. — Robin Hobb

Sunday is a day of rest. Loafing is not rest. — Robert Baden-Powell

If I fail more than you do, I win. — Seth Godin

Some debts should never be tallied, he says. I myself, I know what is owed me, but by God I know what I owe. — Hilary Mantel

Even people who aren't sick may not have optimal wellness. — Brian Carter

You can get much further with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone. — Al Capone

As tight as it had been in the kitchen before they'd left, there were three times as many people crammed in there now, most of them men. Beverly's mother was nowhere in sight and neither was the baby. Beverly was standing at the sink, a butcher's knife in her hand. She was slicing oranges from an enormous pile that was sliding across the counter while the two lawyers from the L.A. County District Attorney's Office, Dick Spencer and Albert Cousins - suit jackets off, ties off, and shirtsleeves rolled up high above the elbow - were twisting the halves of oranges on two metal juicers. Their foreheads were flushed and damp with sweat, their opened collars just beginning to darken, they worked as if the safety of their city relied on the making of orange juice. — Ann Patchett