Were Spiders Ever Huge Quotes & Sayings

France was at peace; one couldn't shoot the bearers of bad news. — Jean-Dominique Bauby

Spider Jockey - spider jockeys are spiders that have a skeleton riding them. They rarely spawn, but if they do, unless you have a lot of arrows and a huge space, you need to run for your life. — Gerone Adams

You are nature. You are already perfect, peaceful, and powerful. You don't need to become anything. You simply need to remember yourself. — Vironika Tugaleva

And truth is malleable, something to be bent or stretched or made to disappear, but direct lies always find the path back to the one who tells them. — Karen Abbott

I think a sentence is a fine thing to put a preposition at the end of. — William Zinsser

People can burn and beat love out of you. They really can kill it, and it's not your fault you don't feel it anymore, and how liberating it is to finally realize that. Love isn't for better or for worse, through thick or thin. It damn well shouldn't be. — Patricia Cornwell

[Sarah has had the middle finger of her left hand amputated] and she says that when she types:
I can't rely on E,D, and C anymore. They go missing when I need them most. Pleased becomes please. Ecstasies becomes stasis. — Chris Cleave

It's a selfish habit. I never learn anything from listening to myself. — Barbara Kingsolver

I've never actually told you, Leese, because I just didn't believe it could be real, but I love you - I love you enough that I don't have to be selfish. I want you to have a long and happy life with someone who'll love you always.'
'You're my forever,' I said, from under the light touch of his fingers. — Lindsay Delagair

It is for want of self-culture that the superstition of Travelling, whose idols are Italy, England, Egypt, retains its fascinationfor all educated Americans. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Closing the door, Claudine looked at him. She looked at him, and while he waited for some expression to come to her face he knew how a doctor must feel sometimes when he looks at a belly. For her face was no more than a cover of skin, showing nothing of the terrible, complicated things, ugly and beautiful, that were going on inside her. — Douglas Woolf