Wladyslaw Stanislaw Reymont Quotes
An irresistible fascination with terrifying death killed me ahead of time.
Quotes to Explore
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Baseball been berry berry good to me!
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No suspicion of foul play at this time.
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Stay out of the spotlight. It fades your suit.
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...the Indian public are weighed down by their problems, and becoming rather insular in their outlook because of their preoccupation with their own problems. We have to rouse them and make them conscious that we can progress only as a part of the world and as a part of Asia.
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People will know you’re serious when you produce.
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Image and appearance tell you little. The inside is bigger than the outside when you have the eyes to see.
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As soon as one point alone is removed from the sphere of dogmatic certainty, the discussion will not simply result in a new and better formulation which will have greater consistency but may easily lead to endless debates and general confusion.
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If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
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Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty.
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I consider lace to be one of the prettiest imitations ever made of the fantasy of nature.
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Tell a scoundrel, three or four times a day, that he is the pink of probity, and you make him at least the perfection of "respectability" in good earnest. On the other hand, accuse an honorable man, too petinaciously, of being a villain, and you fill him with a perverse ambition to show you that you are not altogether in the wrong.
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I have songs that sound like this and songs that sound like that. I think it's just my vocal that keeps it all together.
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Such humble talents as God had given me I will endeavour to put to their greatest use; if I am able to amuse, I will try to benefit too; and when I fell it my duty to speak unpalatable truth, with the help of God, I will speak it, through it be to the prejudice of my name and to the detriment of my reader's immediate pleasure as well as my own.
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He has known joy and violence. Felt the warmth of children and the cruelty of abuse. He has nearly died saving lives and merely been killed by a drunken act. He has known the finery of grand estates and the filth of stinking slums. He has survived fire and flood, starvation and torment. And nothing could break his spirit-or his great love. This is HIS life. He is called the horse.
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An irresistible fascination with terrifying death killed me ahead of time.
