Wychen Chinese Quotes & Sayings

The trick of enjoying New York is not to be so busy grinding your way to the center of the earth that you fail to notice the sparkle of the place, a scale and a kind of wonder that puts all human endeavors in their proper place. — David Carr

If I give up my career as a skater simply because I fear I won't show my best performance, I would be really sorry later in life. — Kim Yuna

You figured most of them would probably marry dopey guys. Guys that talk about how many miles they get to a gallon in their goddam cars. Guys that get sore and childish as hell if you beat them at golf, or even just some stupid game like ping-pong. Guys that are very mean. Guys that never read books. — J.D. Salinger

My life is cozy, but I'm starting to let myself think I want something wet and aching stabbed through it. I want something substantial. I want to gorge myself. Excess. — Mary Ann Rivers

September put her hand on the grip of the Rivet Gun. She'd only just gotten it, and she'd promised to take copious notes for Belinda Cabbage, which probably did not mean handing it over to the first person who asked and taking notes on what she got for it. But more than that, she wanted it with her. It had chosen her. She felt safer with it, even though she knew it was probably quite dangerous.
"No," she said finally. "I can't. What if I need it?"
"Good girl," said the Minotaur. "A warrior never gives up her weapon. — Catherynne M Valente

When humans become gods, when our wings grow so great as to beat about the very edges of the earth, no one can answer but us. — Kate Bernheimer

whenever people ask me what I'd most like to change about the white working class, I say, "The feeling that our choices don't matter. — J.D. Vance

My name was in the wind, and the wind was high above the snowbound city. There was no difference between the sound of my name and the sound of the wind. I was in the wind and the wind was in me, and beneath us were the crystalline haloes of golden light wrapped about the streetlamps, and the muffled plops of snow falling from eaves, and the dry rattles of the dead leaves clinging to the indifferent boughs. — Rick Yancey

God could give me no greater token of his love for me than you. — Julie Berry