Naomi Ragen Quotes
Even her hair, she thought, running her fingers impatiently through the damp golden brown ringlets that curled romantically around her face. A Botticelli angel, a boy in college once called her, begging her to let it grow. Right! That was all she needed: wild curls cascading down her back like a doomed Shakespearian virgin, or a rock star.
Naomi Ragen
Quotes to Explore
I think, if you create the right economic framework in terms of government policy, that Saskatchewan can continue to succeed and grow. Instead of having people migrate from Saskatchewan, they will be migrating to Saskatchewan.
N. Murray Edwards
When everyone is running the machine, and it's all working, there's a tendency to look at the short term and focus on incremental opportunities and not look ahead to the really big opportunities.
Abagail Johnson
I'm not on the run from anything and I'm not at all clear about what I'm running towards. But as some great writer put it, I want to be certain that when I arrive at death, I'm totally exhausted.
Fiona Shaw
There's always been that theory that if a candidate can't run a decent campaign, he probably can't run a decent presidency. That might be true, although sadly I must admit that running a brilliant campaign does not translate into running a brilliant White House.
Gail Collins
You can grow without destroying the things that you love.
Ed McMahon
Spontaneity, the hallmark of childhood, is well worth cultivating to counteract the rigidity that may otherwise set in as we grow older.
Gail Sheehy
Other animals ran only when they had a reason, but the horse would run for no reason whatever, as if to run out of his own skin
Rabindranath Tagore
Most dogs, when you hold a leash up, go nuts and run to the door. Crash, on the other hand barely looks up from his spot on the couch. His expression is saying, What the hell are you doing with that thing?
David Rosenfelt
The same protection you create for yourself becomes the wall that imprisons you.
Anthony Robbins
Even her hair, she thought, running her fingers impatiently through the damp golden brown ringlets that curled romantically around her face. A Botticelli angel, a boy in college once called her, begging her to let it grow. Right! That was all she needed: wild curls cascading down her back like a doomed Shakespearian virgin, or a rock star.
Naomi Ragen
