Charles Dickens Quotes
The very dogs were all asleep, and the flies, drunk with moist sugar in the grocer’s shop, forgot their wings and briskness, and baked to death in dusty corners of the window.
Charles Dickens
Quotes to Explore
Forget not, O Lord, that I am one of those whom Thou hast created, and with Thine own blood hast redeemed. I repent me of my sins: I will strive to amend my ways.
Saint Ambrose
Bipartisanship helps to avoid extremes and imbalances. It causes compromises and accommodations. So let's cooperate.
Zbigniew Brzezinski
I'm generally competing with the ideal I have set for myself, and I've found that served me very well.
Victoria Principal
I developed this - I don't know, like a burning love, almost, inside of me that I just wanted to get up, and I just wanted to skate every single day and get better.
J. R. Celski
If writers just sit and talk about oppression, they are not going to do much writing.
V. S. Naipaul
Why do I always choose the shopping cart with the squeaky wheel? Is it my bad luck, or are all the carts dysfunctional?
Rachel Nichols
Luiheid mag aantrekkelijk schijnen, werken geeft bevrediging.
Anne Frank
I believe that in the end the abolition of war, the maintenance of world peace, the adjustment of international questions by pacific means will come through the force of public opinion, which controls nations and peoples.
Frank B. Kellogg
There will be no job cuts arising out of this merger in Europe - this is in the interest of jobs in Europe.
Lakshmi Mittal
A lot of times the best trailers are for complete dogshit movies. It's a shame that people are beyond quick to judge things these days. Lots of great stuff gets lost that way.
Rob Zombie
Whatever you think of de Sade, he was a complex figure and we should not look for easy answers with him. He was, strangely perhaps, against the death penalty, and he was never put in prison for murders or anything like that.
Philip Kaufman
The very dogs were all asleep, and the flies, drunk with moist sugar in the grocer’s shop, forgot their wings and briskness, and baked to death in dusty corners of the window.
Charles Dickens