Crashing Melody Quotes

#1. I love comics. All I've been doing is reading every day, sitting in the house. Because I've not been feeling too good, so I've been reading and reading.

Jason Mewes

#2. No texting. What happens then? Good old-fashioned letters.

Lorene Scafaria

#3. Let menot, even inmyownmind, committheinjustice of taking a speck for the whole.

Maria Edgeworth

#4. The Anarchists' [national] anthem is an international anthem that consists of 365 raspberries blown in very quick succession to the tune of Camptown Races. Nobody has to stand up for it, nobody has to listen to it, and, even better, nobody has to play it.

Mike Harding

#5. I really think I write about everyday life. I don't think I'm quite as odd as others say I am. Life is intrinsically, well, boring and dangerous at the same time. At any given moment the floor may open up. Of course, it almost never does; that's what makes it so boring.

Edward Gorey

#6. I made my first mix tape when I was 14. I used to play basketball and ride bikes, but I think I just latched onto music because I figured I could be really good at it on my own.

Wiz Khalifa

#7. You can't eliminate the dust, only move it somewhere else.

Marty Rubin

#8. I prefer directing to acting. There is huge freedom that comes from being behind the camera. It brings a lot of responsibilities as well, but is intensely rewarding. Particularly the chance to help draw out the best in young actors.

Angelina Jolie

#9. I should like to raise the question whether the inevitable stunting of the sense of smell as a result of man's turning away from the earth, and the organic repression of the smell-pleasure produced by it, does not largely share in his predisposition to nervous diseases.

Sigmund Freud

#10. Nd I smile
and know
why people write music and paint and dance, lifted as if they can fly,
because this ache
crashing inside
needs to be free.
sometimes, love
becomes a melody
others hum for years.

Pat Mora

#11. She hadn't come for any of that. She came for him. Twenty feet in front of her, leaning back against the waist-high bar, stood the man she'd spent all day tracking down - the infamous Dillon James. The man who would soon have the power to take away everything she held dear.

J.M. Stewart