Wohlhabender Quotes & Sayings

Qhuinn looked at each of the hoods again. How ironic, he thought. Nearly two years ago, an Honor Guard of black robes had been sent to him to make sure he knew his family didn't want him. And now, here these males were, come to draw him into a different kind of fold
that was every bit as strong as that of blood. — J.R. Ward

Advice is cheap; you can take it from me. — Billy Joel

I don't feel there's any reason to apologise for having a wicked imagination. I think it's important as a maker of fantasy and of horror. — Clive Barker

But I want you around even when I don't need you.
- Jeremy Richards — Julius Lester

I would sooner a writer were vulgar than mincing; for life is vulgar, and it is life he seeks. — W. Somerset Maugham

Win or lose, I've been fortunate to be able to pitch deep enough into games to get decisions. — Dontrelle Willis

Even some of our cookbooks are banned. (Though it's been centuries, at least, since the Pitches ate fairies.) (You can't even find fairies anymore.) (And it isn't because we ate them all.) — Rainbow Rowell

There are two men in Tolstoy. He is a mystic and he is also a realist. He is addicted to the practice of a pietism that for all its sincerity is nothing if not vague and sentimental; and he is the most acute and dispassionate of observers, the most profound and earnest student of character and emotion. — William Ernest Henley

This is not about what party you're part of. This is about right and wrong, ... the conscience of this nation. — Al Sharpton

Kenny wasn't the quickest of movers but he was 20 yards quicker than anybody else with his football brain and he would be in position before any defender knew what was happening. I've always said the best signing that Liverpool ever made was Kenny Dalglish. — Ronnie Moran

Long for me as I for you, forgetting, what will be inevitable, the long black aftermath of pain. — Malcolm Lowry

The newspaper is a lecture. The Web is a conversation. — James Lileks

The storm is a glazier. Then fog passes through, touches the cold trees to add to the ice already there. Here the wind spins glass from the water it has stolen off the sea and the lakes, off the hair on my head and the breath out of my mouth, the storm takes the water from us all everywhere, to make of a mountain range a stained-glass depiction of a saint no one knows. — Alexander Chee