Quotes - Page 279 | Just Great DataBase

The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.

I love her for that, because it was so human.

La vanidad y el orgullo son cosas distintas, aunque muchas veces se usen como sinónimos. El orgullo está relacionado con la opinión que tenemos de nosotros mismos; la vanidad, con lo que quisiéramos que los demás pensaran de nosotros.

a veces es malo ser tan reservada. Si una mujer disimula su afecto al objeto mismo, puede perder la oportunidad de conquistarle;

But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human.

nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind as a steady purpose—a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye. This

universally

Billy took off his tri-focals and his coat and his necktie and his shoes, and he closed the venetian blinds and then the drapes, and he lay down on the outside of the coverlet. But sleep would not come. Tears came instead. Billy turned on the Magic Fingers, and he was jiggled as he wept.

Having spoken plainly so far, Okoye said the next half a dozen sentences in proverbs. Among the Ibo the art of conversation is regarded very highly, and proverbs are the palm-oil with which words are eaten.

We are two-legged wombs, that's all: sacred vessels, ambulatory chalices.

May we take my uncle's letter to read to her? Take whatever you like, and get away.

There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with: 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge'; and I shall keep mine to swell my song.

Oh! if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not much better. I am sick of them all. Thank Heaven! I am going tommorow where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manner nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all.

Elizabeth found that nothing was beneath this great lady's attention, which could furnish her with an occasion of dictating to others.

As an Earthling, I had to believe whatever clocks said—and calendars.

A bluetick hound bays out there in the fog, running scared and lost because he can’t see. No tracks on the ground but the one’s he’s making, and he sniffs in every direction with his cold red-rubber nose and picks up no scent but his own fear, fear burning down into him like steam.

Nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection.

It's the truth. Even if it didn't happen.

He was weary of the uncertainty, of the vicious circle of that eternal war that always found him in the same place, but always older, wearier, even more in the position of not knowing why, or how, or even when.

We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured... It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us.