Carrie Jones Quotes
... no one can ever save someone else, you know? We can only save ourselves. You know that, don't you?
Quotes to Explore
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The secret of happiness is to admire without desiring.
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Way back when I was a junior pastry chef, I'd bake loads of muffins every morning, as many as 120 or so, while operating on autopilot.
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Whatever we plant in our subconscious mind and nourish with repetition and emotion will one day become a reality.
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I could have ended the war in a month. I could have made North Vietnam look like a mud puddle.
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I was in law school at the University of Kentucky and realized I didn't really like law school, so I took a creative writing course for something different.
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To my child's eyes, which had seen nothing else, Shanghai was a waking dream where everything I could imagine had already been taken to its extreme.
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It's easier to poke holes in an idea than think of ways to fill them. And it's easier to focus on the 100 reasons you shouldn't do something rather than the one reason you should.
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What a bog and labyrinth the human essence is... We are all overbrained and overemotioned.
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I have not the particular shining bauble or feather in my cap for crowds to gaze at or kneel to, but I have power and resolution for foes to tremble at.
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Any scene that involves stripping off is hell. You just know it's going to take a day or more to get it right. It never gets any better and it's always uncomfortable, and all you can do is grin and bare it. I just pray it's never gratuitous and that it doesn't look so fake that all you hear in the audience is, 'Well, that's not really her, is it?'
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I want to arrive at the possibility of peace with the Syrians, and when I believe that the conditions are right, I will not miss the opportunity.
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We resist Joy on this planet more than we resist war.
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It's not the cards that you have all the time that makes you a winner or a loser.
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He was outwardly calm but inwardly bleeding to death.
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The first man . . . ventured to call food and nourishment the parts that had a little before bellowed and cried, moved and lived. How could his eyes endure the slaughter when throats were slit and hides flayed and limbs torn from limb? How could his nose endure the stench? How was it that the pollution did not turn away his taste, which made contact with the sores of others and sucked juices and serums from mortal wounds?
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What a different result one gets by changing the metaphor!
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We don't have the time to completely be ourselves. We only have the room to be happy.
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I don't think anybody has a ceiling. Everybody can constantly improve.
