I Had Enough Of Life Quotes

#1. Two days later, I started my job.

My job involved typing friendly letters full of happy lies to dying children. I wasn't allowed to touch my computer keyboard. I had to press the keys with a pair of Q-tips held by tweezers -- one pair of tweezers in each hand.

I'm sorry -- that was a metaphor.

My job involved using one of those photo booths to take strips of four photographs of myself. The idea was to take one picture good enough to put on a driver's license, and to be completely satisfied with it, knowing I had infinite retries and all the time in the world, and that I was getting paid for it. I'd take the photos and show them to the boss, and he would help me think of reasons the photos weren't good enough. I'd fill out detailed reports between retakes. We weren't permitted to recycle the outtakes, so I had to scan them, put them on eBay, arrange a sale, and then ship them out to the buyer via FedEx. FedEx came once every three days, at either ten minutes till noon or five minutes after six.

I'm sorry -- that was a metaphor, too.

My job involved blowing ping-pong balls across long, narrow tables using three-foot-long bendy straws. At the far end of the table was a little wastebasket. My job was to get the ping-pong ball into that wastebasket, using only the bendy straw and my lungs. Touching the straw to the ping-pong ball was grounds for a talking-to. If the ping-pong ball fell off the side of the table, or if it miss #Quote by Tim Rogers

#2. Do you know what I think?"she asked, rearranging the blanket to wear around her shoulders like a shawl.
"Not this again."
"I think there's more to you than you let people believe. I think you actually do care what people think. Oh sure, it's fun having everyone think you're dangerous and cold, but inside, where it matters, you're just warm pudding."
"Warm pudding?"
"Quite," she uttered confidently, with a firm nod.
The things that came out of that woman's mouth never failed to astound him. "Well, I'm going to... to leave now," he said slowly, as if he thought her the strangest creature on earth- just to tease her. When she laughed at herself, he smiled and muttered, "Good night, my sweet Charlotte." Fists on the edge of the couch, he made to push himself up.
"Wait," she said. And he froze.
Slowly, she sat up more fully, swinging her legs down. Which put her knees between his planted fists.
He couldn't help but give a low chuckle. "Charlotte, if I didn't know you better, I would venture to say that you are deliberately tempting me."
"Tempting you to what?" she asked, her tone utterly oblivious.
He had had enough. "Remember that little problem I forewarned you about? The one about a man and a woman never being able to become friends because lust gets in the way? That eventually, one or both of us would end up wanting something very intimate from the other?"
She nodded jerkily.
"Well, I'm there. I've been there. For yea #Quote by Olivia Parker

#3. How do you know they're magic and not some mechanical device of the dwarves?" Tanis asked, sensing that Tas was hiding something.
Tas gulped. He had been hoping Tanis wouldn't ask him that question.
"Uh," Tas stammered, "I---I guess I did sort of happened to, uh, mention them to Raistilin one night when you were all busy doing something else. He told me they might be magic. To find out, he said one of those weird spells of his and they--uh--began to glow. That meant they were enchanted. He asked me what they did and I demonstated and he said they were 'glasses of true seeing.' The dwarven magic-users of old made them to read books written in other languages and--" Tas stopped.
"And?" Tanis pursued.
"And--uh--magic spellbooks." Tas's voice was a whisper.
"And what else did Raistlin say?"
"That if I touched his spellbooks or even looked at them sideways, he'd turn me into a cricket and s-swallow m-me whole," Tasselhoff stammered. He looked up at Tanis with his wide eyed. "I belived him, too."
Tanis shook his head. Trust Raistlin to come up with a threat awful enough to quensh the curiosity of a kender. #Quote by Margaret Weis

#4. All questions of right to one side, I have never been able to banish the queasy inner suspicion that Israel just did not look, or feel, either permanent or sustainable. I felt this when sitting in the old Ottoman courtyards of Jerusalem, and I felt it even more when I saw the hideous 'Fort Condo' settlements that had been thrown up around the city in order to give the opposite impression. If the statelet was only based on a narrow strip of the Mediterranean littoral (god having apparently ordered Moses to lead the Jews to one of the very few parts of the region with absolutely no oil at all), that would be bad enough. But in addition, it involved roosting on top of an ever-growing population that did not welcome the newcomers. #Quote by Christopher Hitchens

#5. I've always been in two minds about women, really. On the one hand, I always liked the fact they had waists, and we hadn't. That aroused in me a feeling of - how shall I put it? - well, pleasure. Yes, pleasurable feelings. Still, on the other hand, they did stab Marat with a penknife, and Marat was Incorruptible, so they shouldn't have stabbed him. That fairly killed off the pleasure. Then again, like Karl Marx, I've always loved women for their little weaknesses - i.e. they've got to sit down to pee, and I've always liked that - that's always filled me with - well, what the hell - a sort of warm feeling. Yes, pleasurable warmth. But then again they did shoot at Lenin, with a revolver no less! And that put a damper on the pleasure as well. I mean, fair enough, sitting down to pee, but shooting at Lenin? That's a sick joke, talking about pleasure after that.

However, I digress. #Quote by Venedikt Erofeev

#6. Strap on one of the weapons you're not supposed to carry.
"Darling Eve." He leaned over, kissed her. "I always have one of the weapons I'm not supposed to carry. You're not to worry about me."
"That's the same bullshit as me telling you not to worry about me."
"Fair enough. So you'll take care of my cop, and I'll take care of your criminal. Reformed."
"Semi-reformed. Since you break the law every time you go out packing." She hissed out a breath. "Take a clutch piece, too."
He patted her hand, went back to his eggs.
He always had a clutch piece. #Quote by J.D. Robb

#7. The Court of Vienna is behaving very badly,' Napoleon wrote to Joseph from Valladolid on January 15, 1809, 'it may have cause to repent. Don't be uneasy. I have enough troops, even without touching my army in Spain, to get to Vienna in a month . . . In fact, my mere presence in Paris will reduce Austria to her usual irrelevance.'1 He did not know at that stage that Austria had already received a large British subsidy to persuade her to fight what would become the War of the Fifth Coalition. Archduke Charles had been putting all able-bodied men between eighteen and forty-five into uniform in the new Landwehr militia, some of whose units were indistinguishable from the regular army. #Quote by Andrew Roberts

#8. Calm down? You shot me in the back, you son of a bitch. (Zarek)
Boy, don't you dare insult my mama, and you better stop and think about that one for a minute. I was a paid killer since I was old enough to hold a gun. Had I shot your dumb ass, you wouldn't have a head right now. Having been shot in the back by a friend, I sure wouldn't want to return that favor to anyone. Not even an ornery cuss like you. And why the hell would I hurt myself just to get to you anyway? Lord, boy, use your head. (Jess) #Quote by Sherrilyn Kenyon

#9. The cold pre-dawn sky was softly grey through the cave opening above, when Griff finally arose and began to retrieve his clothes.
Astelle said, 'A man like you – I could take full time.'
He smiled regretfully. 'That is impossible, my darling girl. Even though you are irresistibly sweet to me, you are not suitable to join the Faen race, and I am not prepared to live among Morts.'
'Suppose I should have a child?' she asked. 'You have put enough seed in me to make a dozen babies.'
'You will not,' he said with conviction. 'A Faen child can be conceived only in love, and we don't have that, do we?' Griff was quite sure that she thought nothing of him, even though she had left his emotions in turmoil. Damned bitch! She had stolen from him.
'I would not know if we did. I don't understand how love should feel.'
'If you loved, you would know it,' he told her. And you would not steal from your love, he thought fiercely.
He was buckling his sword belt over the black tunic.
She did not notice the shaking of his hands; she simply thought what a fine manly figure he made, and she realised how much she wanted him to stay. 'If I did have a child – could I let you know somehow?' Astelle clutched at the only strand of hope she could find.
He strove to reassure her. 'We do have mindlink, which means you only have to mindwhisper my name, if you ever need me – I will come.' But he did not think this very likely.
'Please don't go, Griff.' She was a #Quote by Bernie Morris

#10. I can only surmise about what Liebling would make of today's pugilistic dark ages. In his era, fighters fought rematches of close fights, even title fights, almost automatically. Ray Robinson and Jake LaMotta met six times, inconceivable for champions today. In the 1950s a quality pro thought himself underemployed if he had only eight or ten bouts a year, and the amateur scene was thriving. Nowadays pros who make a living from boxing are about as common as Yetis, and amateurs can't get enough fights to learn the rudiments of the craft. #Quote by A.J. Liebling

#11. I heard a story once in the Orient about two architects who went to see the Buddha. They had run out of money on their projects and hoped the Buddha could do something about it. 'Well, I'll do what I can,' said the Buddha, and he went off to see their work. The first architect was building a bridge, and the Buddha was very impressed. 'That's a very good bridge,' he said, and he began to pray. Suddenly a great white bull appeared, carrying on its back enough gold to finish construction. 'Take it,' said the Buddha, 'and build even more bridges.' And so the first architect went away very happy. The second architect was building a wall, and when the Buddha saw it he was equally impressed. 'That's a very good wall,' he said solemnly, and began to pray. Suddenly the sacred bull appeared, walked over to the second architect, and sat on him. #Quote by Colin Higgins

#12. Walking home's going to be...interesting half dressed." Alan mused as he dropped the shirt over the lip of the sink.
Shelby shot a look over her shoulder, but the retort she had in mind slipped away from her.He was lean enough so she could have counted his ribs, but there was a sense of power and endurance in the breadth of his chest and shoulders, the streamlined waist. His body made her forget any other man she'd ever seen.
It had been he,she realized all at once, whom she'd been thinking of when she'd thrown the clay into that clean-lined bowl.
Shelby let the first flow of arousal rush through her because it was as sweet as it was sharp. Then she tensed against it, rendering it a distant throb she could control.
"You're in excellent shape," she commented lightly. "You should be able to make it to P street in under three minutes at a steady jog."
"Shelby, that's downright unfriendly."
"I thought it was more rude," she corrected as she struggled against a grin. "I suppose I could be a nice guy and throw it in the dryer for you."
"It was your clay."
"It was your move," she reminded him, but snatched up the damp shirt. "Okay, come on upstairs." With one hand, she tugged off her work apron, tossing it aside as she breezed through the doorway. "I suppose you're entitled to one drink on the house."
"You're all heart," Alan murmured as he followed her up the stairs.
"My reputation for generosity precedes me. #Quote by Nora Roberts

#13. I had just turned thirty. That was enough in itself to be depressed about. I never thought I would be this age and feel this worthless. I was supposed to be "somebody." I guess you could say I was slightly disappointed at the outcome. #Quote by Brenda Perlin

#14. I said ten years, but perhaps seven will be enough. That's not so long. Seven years of drinking poison, of never sleeping, of living on high alert. Seven more years, and then maybe Faerie will be a safer, better land. And I will have earned my place in it. The great game, Locke had called it when he accused me of playing it. I wasn't then, but I am now. And maybe I learned something from Locke. He made me into a story, and now I am going to make a story out of someone else. #Quote by Holly Black

#15. My boarding school experience was the only thing I had strong enough feelings to write about for hundreds and hundreds of pages. I can still smell the formaldehyde of the fetal pigs in biology. #Quote by Curtis Sittenfeld

#16. Vi?" Jag's soft voice called from the other room. I'd been soaking so long, the water in the tub was cold. I stepped out, careful not to get the book wet, and wrapped a towel around myself.
"In here," I whispered. He had switched the lamp on and was rubbing his eyes when I came into the bedroom.
"Hey."
I slipped the book back onto the table next to his bed. "I didn't get it wet."
"Not. That." His eyes raked over my only-towel-covered body with a hungry expression.
"Knock it off." I pulled the towel tighter and returned to the bathroom. He followed me, putting his hand on the door before I could close it. I looked anywhere but at him. Lying fully clothed in bed with him was bad enough.
I couldn't help it when I drank him in, starting at his feet and slowly creeping up to his neck, past his chin, lips, nose to his eyes. When I finally reached them, my heart clutched almost painfully. I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, playing with the end of my towel.
"Vi, babe-"
"Don't talk like that," I said.
He smiled his Jag-winner. I took a shuddering breath and tried to focus. "Don't smile like that either. It's not fair."
"Okay, then. Let's talk about being fair." He carefully wove his fingers through mine. The way he studied the ground was adorable. He took a few slow steps back into the bedroom, pulling me with him.
"Jag- #Quote by Elana Johnson

#17. Over six the Angel of Death had no dominion, and these were: - Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Moses, Aaron, and Miriam. Respecting the first three it is written, "in all" (Gen. xxiv. 1), "of all" (Gen. xxvii. 33) "all" (A.V. "enough," Gen. xxxiii. 11). Respecting the last three it is written, "by the mouth of Jehovah" (see Num. xxxiii. 38, and Deut. xxxiv. 5). Bava Bathra, fol. 17, col. i. #Quote by Maurice H. Harris

#18. I was in my early thirties writing about my early twenties, so there was this way of seeing my younger self from enough of a distance to have perspective but also not to feel that I had to protect myself. My dreams for myself then would have undersold myself in a way. #Quote by Dani Shapiro

#19. Stop it!" Newt yelled. Stop it now!"
Thomas has been frozen in place, crouching as he waited for an opportunity to jump in and help Minho. But he twisted around to see that Newt was holding his Launcher in shooting position, his eyes wild with fury.
"Stop or I'll start shooting and not give a buggin' piece of klunk who gets hit."
….. Thomas couldn't believe the sudden turn of events. He looked at Newt with wide eyes, glad he'd done what he had, and happy he hadn't aimed the Launcher at him or Minho.
"I told him to stop," Newt half whispered. Then he aimed the weapon at Minho, but it was shaking because his arms were. "Now you guys leave. No more discussion. I'm sorry."
Minho held up his hands. "You're going to shoot me? Old pal?"
"Go," Newt said. „I asked nicely. Now I'm telling. This is hard enough. Go."
„Newt, let's go outside.."
„Go!" Newt stepped closer and aimed more fiercely. „Get out of here!"
Thomas hated what he was seeing – the complete wilderness that had taken over Newt. His whole body trembled and his eyes had lost any hint of sanity. He was losing it, completely.
"Let's go," Thomas said, one of the saddest things he'd ever heard himself say. „Come on."
Minho's gaze snapped to Thomas, and he looked like his heart had been shattered. "You can't be serious."
Thomas could only nod.
Minho's shoulders slumped, and his eyes fell to the floor. "How did the world get so shucked?" The words barely came out, #Quote by James Dashner

#20. The sun was up, the neighborhood waking. I wiped my face clean with the back of my sleeve, the warming air soft on my wet cheeks. A prayer welled up within me, a new kind of prayer. I was done begging God to forgive me for being too bitter, too needy, too egotistical, too tired. Repenting one day for being too much, the next for not being enough.

Now I clearly understood my real offence against heaven: the stubborn refusal that every failing that I had - from the first - had been forgiven. #Quote by Bethany Pierce

#21. I'm not sure if i believe in love at first sight or any of that shit. But i know that sitting there in a room with half-retarded motherfuckers drooling from their lithium and Trazodone, whatever I felt, it was close. Like I had this need to hold her, protect her bones from her parents or drugs or whatever wouldn't let her sleep and night, and i wanted her to think i was funny and sexy and smart and beautiful, just fucking beautiful. Sitting there while the tech introduced us to her, I wanted to be better than I was, not just to fuck this girl, but to be better for her. Guess that's a good enough definition of love. #Quote by Peter Stenson

#22. What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade"

Mrs. Nelson explained how to stand still and listen
to the wind, how to find meaning in pumping gas,

how peeling potatoes can be a form of prayer. She took questions
on how not to feel lost in the dark.

After lunch she distributed worksheets
that covered ways to remember your grandfather's

voice. Then the class discussed falling asleep
without feeling you had forgotten to do something else -

something important - and how to believe
the house you wake in is your home. This prompted

Mrs. Nelson to draw a chalkboard diagram detailing
how to chant the Psalms during cigarette breaks,

and how not to squirm for sound when your own thoughts
are all you hear; also, that you have enough.

The English lesson was that I am
is a complete sentence.

And just before the afternoon bell, she made the math equation look easy. The one that proves that hundreds of questions,

and feeling cold, and all those nights spent looking
for whatever it was you lost, and one person

add up to something. #Quote by Brad Aaron Modlin

#23. By the way, I haven't heard an 'I'm sorry' from you yet." My sense of grievance had overwhelmed my sense of self-preservation.
I am sorry that the maenad picked on you."
I glared at him. "Not enough," I said. I was trying hard to hang on to this conversation.
Angelic Sookie, vision of love and beauty, I am prostrate that the wicked evil maenad violated your smooth and voluptuous body, in an attempt to deliver a message to me."
That's more like it. #Quote by Charlaine Harris

#24. I know how you guys feel about us. I'm not stupid, and believe me, I've tried to get you out of my head. But there isn't enough liquor or art or any other distraction in the world to do it. I had to stop going to Wolfe's because it was too hard being that close to you, even if it was all just pretend fighting. I couldn't stand the touching. It was agonizing because it meant something to me－and I knew it meant nothing to you. I kept telling myself to stay away altogether, and then I'd find excuses… like the car… anything to be around you again. #Quote by Richelle Mead

#25. I got manicure and pedicure supplies, fat ass snacks that are so decadent they'll wipe out any depressing thought you've ever had." She winked with a slight smile. "And if that don't work, I got us enough fuzzy navel fixings to have us singing old show tunes and wiggling our asses until the Fourth of July. #Quote by Sherri Desbois

#26. The welfare state may be well intended but it is a Ponzi scheme. People are paying in to support the people who previously paid in, but there isn't enough coming in, so it will collapse, like eery Ponzi scheme does. By the way, I had the author of a biography on Ponzi on my show. Ponzi was a good guy. He just got messed up and so he had to keep collecting money to pay the other people who paid in earlier. He didn't mean bad.
Ponzi turns out to be somewhat of a Saint. He heard of a girl who was in a fire, and he gave his own skin for her skin grafts. A total stranger.
Ponzi is the quintessential Liberal. Means well, and creates something destructive. #Quote by Dennis Prager

#27. I first read Freud's famous case study on hysteria based on his client Ida Bauer when I was in my twenties. It pissed me off so badly it haunted me for 25 years. But I had to wait to be a good enough writer to give Ida her voice back. And I had to go get my own first too. I not only know the case study inside and out, like most women, I lived a version of it. Maybe it's time for us to tell our versions. #Quote by Lidia Yuknavitch

#28. I once heard somebody say that God has closed a door on an opportunity they had hoped for. But I've always wondered if, when we want to do something that we know is right and good, God places that desire deep in our hearts because He wants to for us and it honors Him. Maybe there are times when we think a door has been closed and, instead of misinterpreting the circumstances, God want us to kick it down. Or perhaps just sit outside of it long enough until somebody tells us we can come in. #Quote by Bob Goff

#29. It is true that nothing here makes any sense, but this is no great misfortune; I learned from the islanders that sense is not of any particular importance, that its presence may even disrupt the clean lines of certain pictures and cast a cloud over their fine light, while laments on the absurdity of being struck me as self-indulgent and objectionable even before my stay on the island. Once you get a little used to a terrain cleansed of sense, you realize that there is amusement enough to be had here, and that only in its emptiness can the magic crystals of beauty originate. And in this space something is revealed: the silent dignity of people, animals, plants and objects, that is able to stir graciousness, compassion and reverence. #Quote by Michal Ajvaz

#30. If I may say, Rich, your wife is looking lovelier with each passing day."

"You may," Rich's muffled words fell against the large red apple in his mouth. He carried a plate of various fresh fruit and the bowl of spaghetti Jace had pointed out earlier. He set the plates down and took the apple out of his mouth while he munched on a piece. "She can't hear it enough times with the discomfort, aches, pains, bloating and cramping she feels."

"Why don't you also share the gas, cravings and the sudden violent tendencies I get, honey?" Joanna said flippantly as she reached for the spaghetti.

"Ah!" Rich smacked her hand away and moved the bowl out of her reach. He pushed the fruit bowl forward in its place. "That's healthier for our kids."

"They want messy pasta right now."

"Tell them they don't always get what they want."

"Their mother wants messy pasta right now."

"Tell her she doesn't always get what she wants."

Joanna leaned forward, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrow. "Once the children are born, papa won't be getting what he wants late at night when he gives me that "I'm in heat" look. I'm sure of that."

Rich's hand on the apple froze. Slowly he chewed, looking up at Jace and Gael whose gazes had been volleying back and forth on the couple as they spoke. Reluctantly, he pushed the spaghetti bowl forward. He reached for the fruit bowl but winced when Joanna smacked his hand awa #Quote by Rae Lori

#31. I felt as I did once when Rose had very bad toothache - that it was callous of me to be so separate from the pain, that just being sorry for suffering people isn't enough. #Quote by Dodie Smith

#32. At first I would be taken aback by that observation, then I would think of them seeing other drummers on television, often faking it or playing less physically demanding music, and understood why they had that impression. I guess drumming wasn't hard work for every drummer, but it certainly was for me, the way I liked to play - as hard as I could, as fast as I could, as long as I could, and as well as I could. Playing a Rush concert was the hardest job I knew, and took everything I had, mentally and physically. I once compared it to running a marathon while solving equations, and that was a good enough analogy. #Quote by Neil Peart

#33. Lying in bed would be an altogether perfect and supreme experience if only one had a colored pencil long enough to draw on the ceiling. This, however, is not generally a part of the domestic apparatus on the premises. I think myself that the thing might be managed with several pails of Aspinall and a broom. Only if one worked in a really sweeping and masterly way, and laid on the color in great washes, it might drip down again on one's face in floods of rich and mingled color like some strange fairy rain; and that would have its disadvantages. I am afraid it would be necessary to stick to black and white in this form of artistic composition. To that purpose, indeed, the white ceiling would be of the greatest possible use; in fact, it is the only use I think of a white ceiling being put to. #Quote by G.K. Chesterton

#34. In truth we were quickly reaching--had likely enough already reached--the age where it no longer made sense to talk about "promise." It was around this time that I remarked to Max that no matter what we now achieved no one would say, "He's so young." Precocity had passed us by.
"After twenty-eight," I sad sadly, "you're judged on your merits."
"Unless one of us dies," Max corrected me. "Then they'll all say, 'He was so young. #Quote by Christopher R. Beha

#35. Tell me, now, fairy as you are, - can't you give me a charm, or a philter, or something of that sort, to make me a handsome man?"
It would be past the power of magic, sir;" and, in thought, I added,"a loving eye is all the charm needed: to such you are handsome enough; or rather, your sternness has a power beyond beauty." Mr. Rochester had sometimes read my unspoken thoughts with an acumen to me incomprehensible: in the presnt instance he took no notice of my abrupt vocal response; but he smiled at me with a certain smile he had of his own, and which he used but on rare occasions. He seemed to think too good for common purpose: it was the real sunshine of feeling-he shed it over me now. #Quote by Charlotte Bronte

#36. I want to clear my mind a little bit and give my mind a little bit of time to breathe so I can pinpoint or at least nail down feelings I'm having and that I've had for the last however long. I need to nail them down long enough to actually write about and elaborate on them. #Quote by Fred Durst

#37. As most young candidates for the pains and penalties of whaling stop at this same New Bedford, thence to embark on their voyage, it may as well be related that I, for one, had no idea of so doing. For my mind was made up to sail in no other than a Nantucket craft, because there was a fine, boisterous something about everything connected with that famous old island, which amazingly pleased me. Besides though New Bedford has of late been gradually monopolizing the business of whaling, and though in this matter poor old Nantucket is now much behind her, yet Nantucket was her great original - the Tyre of this Carthage; - the place where the first dead American whale was stranded. Where else but from Nantucket did those aboriginal whalemen, the Red-Men, first sally out in canoes to give chase to the Leviathan? And where but from Nantucket, too, did that first adventurous little sloop put forth, partly laden with imported cobblestones - so goes the story - to throw at the whales, in order to discover when they were nigh enough to risk a harpoon from the bowsprit? #Quote by Herman Melville

#38. AT THE END OF WORLD WAR II, I was a New Dealer to the core. I thought government could solve all our postwar problems just as it had ended the Depression and won the war. I didn't trust big business. I thought government, not private companies, should own our big public utilities; if there wasn't enough housing to shelter the American people, I thought government should build it; if we needed better medical care, the answer was socialized medicine. #Quote by Ronald Reagan

#39. But I guess it found you"
"About that," Peter said trying to ignore the slight. "Why send a riddle? You could have saved us a lot of trouble if you'd written something less complicated."
"It wasn't that complicated," she muttered.
"Yeah!" Scrape added. "And how was she suppose to know it'd end up in the hands of some blind dummy and his ugly pet?"
sir tode, who up to this point had been listening quietly, had evidently had enough. "I've had enough," he said, leaping to his hooves. "I'm a fierce knight, known to the world over slaying dragons. Who among you can boast such a feat? And this 'blind dummy' just happens to be the legendary Peter Nimble ... the greatest theif who ever lived. #Quote by Jonathan Auxier

#40. I have no wish for a second husband. I had enough of the first. I like to have my own way to lie down mistress, and get up master. #Quote by Susanna Moodie

#41. All those years I'd kept an outline of my father in my head, like a chalk line enclosing a father-shaped space. When I was little, I'd coloured it in often enough. But those colours had been too bright and the outline had been too large ... #Quote by Margaret Atwood