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                #1. When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.
                Erma Bombeck
							 
            
                    
		    
                #2. When Nirvana became popular, you could very easily slip and get lost during that storm. I fortunately had really heavy anchors - old friends, family.
                Dave Grohl
							 
            
            
		    
                #3. Let love bloom like a flower with the fragrance of the garden of your heart filled with beauty, joy, and happiness.
                Debasish Mridha
							 
            
            
		    
            
                    
		    
                #5. A losing trade, I assure you, sir: literature is a drug.
                George Borrow
							 
            
            
		    
                #6. In every age in which books have been produced, the governing class, the respectable, have been opposed to the works of real genius.
                Robert Green Ingersoll
							 
            
            
		    
                #7. Are you in Portland on business? I ask, and my voice is too high, like I've got my finger trapped in a door or something. Damn! Try to be cool, Ana!
                E.L. James
							 
            
            
		    
                #8. The warmth of my love will transform winter into spring and adorn you with floral blooms of my heart.
                Debasish Mridha
							 
            
                    
		    
            
            
		    
                #10. The real being of language is that into which we are taken up when we hear it - what is said.
                Hans-Georg Gadamer
							 
            
            
		    
                #11. When you fall in love, your heart blooms like a flower and your soul transforms and transcends like a butterfly
                Debasish Mridha
							 
            
            
		    
                #12. And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes
Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.
                Sylvia Plath
							 
            
            
		    
            
            
		 
		
			        
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