Vladyka Filmy Quotes & Sayings

What makes me feel old is having no hair on the top of my head. — Moby

The trick is to start early in our careers the stress-relieving avocation that we will need later as a mind-exercising final vocation. We can quit a job, but we quit fresh involvement at our mental peril. — William Safire

Yes we need enhanced border control. Yes we need to focus our efforts on those who pose a threat to our country. But let's not fall into the trap set by the Tea Party and others who would tell you that every single undocumented individual is a drug smuggler, a terrorist, or a threat to the American way of life. That is simply not true. — Michael Nutter

Music is what I do, Christ is why I do it — John Foreman

What tyranny could exceed a tyranny that dictates to the human heart? — June Jordan

Almost all doctrinal error is really truth perverted. Truth wrongly divided. Truth disproportionately held and taught. — Arthur W. Pink

If another girl ever steals your man, there's no better revenge than letting her keep him. REAL MEN CAN'T BE STOLEN. — Wiz Khalifa

Post-modernism is modernism with the optimism taken out. — Robert Hewison

It's a little bit of a 'if you can't beat 'em - join 'em' mentality for me when I think about Twitter. — Rob Lowe

Your life is not predestined, as in Calvinist thought, where everything is written down in the book of life long before your birth and is inescapable. There are choices, accidents, hints and wrong paths, and the ego you, or whatever you call yourself, is a factor in all this. But there is still this other factor that keeps calling. At some moment, people turn, in despair or when they are unable to go any longer on a certain route, and this inner voice says, "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you to turn to me for a long time." — James Hillman

I don't think I miss anything by not watching television. — Alexandra Paul

Soon, however, she began to reason with herself, and try to be feeling less. Eight years, almost eight years had passed, since all had been given up. How absurd to be resuming the agitation which such an interval had banished into distance and indistinctness! What might not eight years do? Events of every description, changes, alienations, removals,
all, all must be comprised in it; and oblivion of the past
how natural, how certain too! It included nearly a third part of her own life.
Alas! with all her reasonings, she found, that to retentive feelings eight years may be little more than nothing. — Jane Austen

At Latham House, we were asked to believe in unlikely miracles. In second chances. We woke up each morning hoping that the odds had somehow swung in our favor.
But that's the thing about odds. Roll a die twice, and you expect two different results. Except it doesn't work that way. You could roll the same side over and over again, the laws of the universe intact and unchanging with each turn. It's only when you consider the past that the odds change. That things become less and less likely.
Here's something I know because I'm a nerd: up until the middle of the twentieth century, dice were made out of cellulose nitrate. It's a material that remains stable for decades but, in a flash, can decompose. The chemical compound breaks down, releasing nitric acid. So every time you roll a die, there's a small chance that it won't give you a result at all, that instead it will cleave, crumble, and explode. — Robyn Schneider

Common wisdom affirms against the drinking of whiskey during daylight hours, and while I can see the merits of the argument, it is not one to which I hold. True, a few fingers of liquor, or even a wide-stretched palm, degrades your ability to cope with the world's troubles, miseries and horrors; but it also makes you less concerned about them, and since the world is certain to throw more at you than you can handle regardless, I think it a more than equitable transaction. People call me the Warden.
People call me a lot of things, but the Warden is the only one you could say inside a church. — Daniel Polansky

I wanted to do 'Texas Trilogy' on stage. But it didn't do well in New York. In fact, it did very badly there, thanks to the critics. It was said that Preston Jones, the author, died of ulcer complications, but the truth was that the critics killed him. — Diane Ladd