Soren Kierkegaard Quotes
How did I get into the world? Why was I not asked about it and why was I not informed of the rules and regulations but just thrust into the ranks as if I had been bought by a peddling shanghaier of human beings? How did I get involved in this big enterprise called actuality? Why should I be involved? Isn't it a matter of choice? And if I am compelled to be involved, where is the manager—I have something to say about this. Is there no manager? To whom shall I make my complaint?

Quotes to Explore
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I did feel pressure to look a certain way on 'Hollyoaks.' But I just had to stay strong and not let myself get into a state of mind that isn't healthy.
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Well, of course I think people can be forgiven. But our justice system is not set up to dispense forgiveness. You can go to the local priest for that.
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My schedulers keep getting driven crazy by the fact that they can't fit hikes in my schedule.
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I'm trying to learn the lessons of the past, but not to make speeches about the past.
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School is at once a place of hope, but it's also a laboratory that exposes our differences.
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My parents didn't give me any scope to feel sorry for myself. They were just like 'go play with your brother, go climb a tree, go fall off your motorbike, do whatever you want. Don't come crying to us when you get scratched. You've got prosthetic legs - that's very nice.'
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Right-to-life groups won't fund us because we're Democrats.
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I think I became a writer because I didn't know of anything else to do. Maybe some incident from my childhood influenced me.
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The Republican Party is bringing out here onto the floor of Congress an all-out assault on the protection of the rights of people who work in the fields of our country, in the factories of our country, in the offices of our country.
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Some friends of mine had parents who made school a treat, a gift - not something to be endured.
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If I'm going to compare myself to a candidate, it's Rick Scott. It's not Donald Trump.
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But Piglet is so small that he slips into a pocket, where it is very comfortable to feel him when you are not quite sure whether twice seven is twelve or twenty-two.
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Dream BIG dreams! Only big dreams have the power to move your mind and spirit.
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The undiscovered is not far away. It's not something to be found eventually. It is contained within what is right in front of us. The essence of reality is being born right now. It has never existed before.
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Kindness is the only service that will stand the storm of life and not wash out.
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I think we'll always have newspapers, but they'll lose influence.
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There's nothing better than cake but more cake.
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You are born an artist or you are not. And you stay an artist, dear, even if your voice is less of a fireworks. The artist is always there.
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Shut the door, they're coming through the window, shut the window, they're coming through the door," are the words to an old song. They fit my lifestyle with newly arriving butcher/censors every month. Only six weeks ago, I discovered that, over the years, some cubby-hole editors at Ballantine Books, fearful of contaminating the young, had, bit by bit, censored some 75 separate sections from the novel. Students, reading the novel which, after all, deals with censorship and book-burning in the future, write to tell me of this exquisite irony.
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Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.
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How did I get into the world? Why was I not asked about it and why was I not informed of the rules and regulations but just thrust into the ranks as if I had been bought by a peddling shanghaier of human beings? How did I get involved in this big enterprise called actuality? Why should I be involved? Isn't it a matter of choice? And if I am compelled to be involved, where is the manager—I have something to say about this. Is there no manager? To whom shall I make my complaint?