Why Did Macbeth Kill Duncan Quotes & Sayings

The mind plays tricks on itself in order to stay in one piece. — Meg Wolitzer

We make families of our own, Travis whispered in my arms on the last night we spent together. It starts with you and me and then it spreads. And whatever happens, there'll always be a part of me that's part of you. No matter what. — Steve Kluger

Nothing is more isolating than having a particular history. — Kevin Powers

The weak link-- she liked the ring of it. To seek the imperfection in the chain that keeps you in bondage. Taken individually, the link was not much. But in concert with its fellows, a mighty iron that subjugated millions despite its weakness. The people she chose, young and old, from the rich part of town or the more modest streets, did not individually persecute Cora. As a community, they were shackles. If she kept at it, chipping away at weak links wherever she found them, it might add up to something. — Colson Whitehead

The worldly life (sansar) is the thing created through delusion [wrong belief]. Therefore when you come to know about this wrong belief, it will go away. — Dada Bhagwan

Is there no spiritual leader during this decline - no one to chastise the sinners and bring hope to the disheartened? Although — Anonymous

Not by blaming the world, not by shunning the world, but only be loving the world can I have peace of mind — Sri Chinmoy

We are going to put out a boxed set thing, but I don't want to do it yet. I want to wait until we're 45 and we're bitter and broke. Then, we'll put out the comprehensive Ween boxed set. — Gene Ween

Her breathing hitched and his all but seized in his lungs for the want of her, the taste of her, the feel of her under his hands. His lips whispered against the curve of hers, where her cheek ended and her very sexy mouth began. — Vonnie Davis

The English think they are free. They are free only during the election of members of parliament. — Jean-Jacques Rousseau

I sprayed scent like a saga a little too anxiously, left the porridge burnt at the bottom of the pot that morning: oats. Now I am swimming for my life while my sister in another city reaches for her umbrella next to her front door. I can smell the rosemary chicken but I don't want any feasts. — Abigail George

With horns and a full rhythm section, the drums always looked like the best seat in the house. — Levon Helm