No name-calling truly bites deep unless, in some dark part of us, we believe it. If we are confident enough then it is just noise.
Life had become some kind of profound competition, where my emotional loss was substituted by my professional success. I became a part of what they call the rat race.
Oskar showed that virtue emerged where it would, and the sort of churchy observance bishops called for was not a guarantee of genuine humanity in a person.
In a town in Calabria, a long time ago, there lived an old lady everyone called Strega Nona, which meant "Grandma Witch".
Thus, she had learned a romance book was fiction. A hero who truly cared for the heroine was called a fantasy.
Mortals were such fickle creatures. They called into the dark, demanded answers and attention from forces they could not comprehend, and yet when they had that attention and those answers, they complained about them.
Everyone calls him Blockhead No one sings his praises Or takes him to heart... That is the kind of person I want to be
I have a great book. It’s called Stantasyland. Except I don’t have the money to buy a million copies to put it on the bestsellers list.
I'm a minicamp body in 102-degree heat getting screamed at by the only other man my size: a middle-aged receivers coach they call Bow Wow.
I’d like to open a restaurant. Would you eat at a place called Filthy’s? The name would be better than the food, which in turn would be better than the service.
New knowledge enhances an ever increasing sense of our own ignorance. The more we know, the more we know we don't know. Feynman called it 'the expanding frontier of ignorance'.
A kind of annihilation, was what Serena called their coupling, and though Pemberton would never have thought to describe it that way, he knew her words had named the thing exactly.
I’ll insist my competitor is the greatest, so that when I beat him, I won’t be calling myself the greatest—I’ll be proving it through my actions.
And since when is stealing people's possessions the call of God? you are all hypocrites who have suddenly come into power, and you don't know how to handle it
Removing his helmet, Edward knelt by the stream called Swillgate, a name that effectively quenched any desire to drink from its depths.
Could it possibly be that he yearned for some of the same things she yearned for? Love. Someone to call your own. Someone to share the joys and the sorrows of life.
They, who have no eyes in their face, are not called blind. They alone are blind, O Nanak, who stray away from their Lord.
If ants had a language they would, no doubt, call their anthill an artifact and describe the brick wall in its neighborhood as a object. in fact would be for them all that was not 'ant-made'.
I've figured out why they call it a trial. Because you you can to pull through it.
The Suitors Ball is fast approaching and it's a nasty reminder that my suitor will be chosen shortly. I feel sorry for the poor unfortunate guy, whichever one of them it happens to be.
In the moonlight which is always sad, as the light of the sun itself is--as the light called human life is--at its coming and its going.
