Rakhra Mushrooms Quotes

#1. Tragedy looks to me like man in love with his own defeat.
Which is only a sloppy way of being in love with yourself.

D.H. Lawrence

#2. The jest loses its point when he who makes it is the first to laugh.

Friedrich Schiller

#3. The Rockwell magazine cover was more a part of the American reality than a record of it.

Arthur C. Danto

#4. If I stay in academia, I might end up going someplace random.

Lauren Willig

#5. Everyone was in a hurry. Everyone was out for themselves. No one gave a shit about anyone else. Long ago, kindness, courtesy, and civility had taken a hike.

Kristen Ashley

#6. Be mindful of your thoughts and words for they are the pen writing that which will manifest.

Sanjo Jendayi

#7. Your only limitation is motivation

R.L. Keck

#8. I hope that they are finding satisfaction. I'm in no way making a judgment. I know it doesn't make me happy.

Randy Harrison

#9. Usually, if you think something's wrong, it probably is ...

Jayce O'Neal

#10. To be a Russian writer at the end of the nineteenth century must have meant bearing an inescapably bitter fate. The more they tried to escape from Russia, the more deeply Russia swallowed them.

Haruki Murakami

#11. IF YOU REALLY let life take you, if you release control and stop clinging to sameness, you can't imagine the places you'll end up. But most people don't do that. Most people get this death grip on what they know, and the only thing that loosens their grasp is some kind of tragedy.

Lisa Unger

#12. What I mean by that is that the point of life, as I see it, is not to write books or scale mountains or sail oceans, but to achieve happiness, and preferably an unselfish happiness.

Bernard Cornwell

#13. How brave a thing is freedom of speech, which has made the Athenians so far exceed every other state of Hellas in greatness!

Herodotus

#14. If you try to find success in fame or in things, you will fail. If you find happiness is the process you will be a success.

Debasish Mridha

#15. A chill December morning dawned, with rags and tatters of mist hanging on the trees like poor people's washing.

Ken Follett