Amoroso Rolls Quotes

Never follow somebody else's path; it doesn't work the same way twice for anyone ... the path follows you and rolls up behind you as you walk, forcing the next person to find their own way."" ... If you do not choose to lead, you will forever be led by others. Find what scares you, and do it. And you can make a difference, if you choose to do so. ~ J. Michael Straczynski

Turner rolls his eyes and stomps towards the door. I don't know if I've ever really seen him just walk. When he's in a good mood, he swaggers. When he's pissed, he slams his feet against the floor like it owes him money. ~ C.M. Stunich

We run after values that, at death, become zero. At the end of your life, nobody asks you how many degrees you have, or how many mansions you built, or how many Rolls Royces you could afford. That's what dying patients teach you. ~ Elisabeth Kubler Ross

The moral man does something,
and when no one responds
he rolls up his sleeves and uses force. ~ Lao-Tzu

TO MY SISTER

IT is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before
The redbreast sings from the tall larch
That stands beside our door.

There is a blessing in the air,
Which seems a sense of joy to yield
To the bare trees, and mountains bare,
And grass in the green field.

My sister! ('tis a wish of mine)
Now that our morning meal is done, 10
Make haste, your morning task resign;
Come forth and feel the sun.

Edward will come with you;--and, pray,
Put on with speed your woodland dress;
And bring no book: for this one day
We'll give to idleness.

No joyless forms shall regulate
Our living calendar:
We from to-day, my Friend, will date
The opening of the year. 20

Love, now a universal birth,
From heart to heart is stealing,
From earth to man, from man to earth:
--It is the hour of feeling.

One moment now may give us more
Than years of toiling reason:
Our minds shall drink at every pore
The spirit of the season.

Some silent laws our hearts will make,
Which they shall long obey: 30
We for the year to come may take
Our temper from to-day.

And from the blessed power that rolls
About, below, above,
We'll frame the measure of our souls:
They shall be tuned to love.

Then come, my Sister! come, I pr ~ William Wordsworth

Love is like going snorkeling ... You go along looking at pretty fish and cool plants until a wave rolls you over a coral reef ... then the sharks come. ~ Julie Wright

The pig winks and rolls in the bog. He kicks his legs up and his trotters clack together. The sun is low over the neighbourhood. There is the smell of oncoming night, of pollen settling, the sounds of kids fighting bath time. Lester comes down, waving his hands.
Don't drown the pig, Fish. We're saving him for Christmas! We're gonna eat him.
No!
I'll drink to that, says the pig.
Lester stands there. He looks at Fish. He looks at the porker. He peeps over the fence. The pig. The flamin' pig. The pig has just spoken. It's no language that he can understand, but there's no doubt. He feels a little crook, like maybe he should go over to that tree and puke.
I like him, Lestah.
He talks?
Yep.
Oh, my gawd.
Lester looks at his retarded son again and once more at the pig.
The pig talks.
I likes him.
Yeah, I bet.
The pig snuffles, lets off a few syllables: aka sembon itwa. It's tongues, that's what it is. A blasted Pentecostal pig.
And you understand him?
Yep. I likes him.
Always the miracles you don't need. It's not a simple world, Fish. It's not. ~ Tim Winton

Tell me, have you ever had sex in the back of a Rolls Royce? -Kingsley ~ Tiffany Reisz

I'm always down to try a new burger, but Shake Shack is still my top. What makes them so special is for the bread they use Martin's potato rolls which is just the best hamburger buns ever. ~ Aziz Ansari

I can't wait to find out who I will be when next Thanksgiving rolls around. ~ Shonda Rhimes

"Love thy neighbour." Perhaps he rolls in riches, and thou art poor, and living in thy little cot side-by-side with his lordly mansion; thou seest every day his estates, his fine linen, and his sumptuous banquets; God has given him these gifts, covet not his wealth, and think no hard thoughts concerning him. Be content with thine own lot, if thou canst not better it, but do not look upon thy neighbour, and wish that he were as thyself. Love him, and then thou wilt not envy him. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Political corruption is to Rhode Islanders as smog is to people who live in Los Angeles: nobody complains of its absence, but when it rolls around everyone feels right at home. ~ Philip Gourevitch

Sal and Henry return with a gust of warm garden air and I settle down to create miniature roses from sugarpaste using tiny ivory spatulas and crimpers. I will have no antique tester bed crowning my cake, only a posy of flowers: symbols of beauty and growth, each year new-blossoming. I let Henry paint the broken pieces with spinach juice, while I tint my flowers with cochineal and yellow gum. As a pretty device I paint a ladybird on a rose, and think it finer than Sèvres porcelain.
At ten o'clock tomorrow, I will marry John Francis at St. Mark's Church, across the square. As Sal and I rehearse our plans for the day, pleasurable anticipation bubbles inside me like fizzing wine. We will return from church for this bride cake in the parlor, then take a simple wedding breakfast of hot buttered rolls, ham, cold chicken, and fruit, on the silver in the dining room. Nan has sent me a Yorkshire Game Pie, so crusted with wedding figures of wheatsheafs and blossoms it truly looks too good to eat. We have invited few guests, for I want no great show, and instead will have bread and beef sent to feed the poor. And at two o'clock, we will leave with Henry for a much anticipated holiday by the sea, at Sandhills, on the southern coast. John Francis has promised Henry he might try sea-bathing, while I have bought stocks of cerulean blue and burnt umber to attempt to catch the sea and sky in watercolor. ~ Martine Bailey

Man, I've got a Rolls-Royce. Big house. Limo. All those things. This is why every kid's dream is to be a major-league ballplayer. ~ Lou Whitaker

It's amazing what people create using their pain. Work that is touched by melancholy has its own unique beauty. Even the word 'melancholy' is pretty, the way it rolls on your tongue. I think sadness adds something to literature that is unique. It's an ingredient like . . ." I thought for a moment. "Like salt. Salt has that power to completely transform a dish. I think sadness has that same transformative effect in literature. ~ Lang Leav

Belonging to the Catholic Church gives your support to an organization that conceals and protects child rapists. Again, not as a few isolated incidents, but as a massive, institution-wide culture, a matter of policy even, that extends throughout the organization and reaches all the way to the top. Belonging to the Catholic Church - giving them money, letting them count you in their rolls, sending your children to their schools - gives this behavior your personal thumbs-up, and actively enables it to continue. ~ Greta Christina

I don't apologize for my diamonds, Rolls-Royce, Range Rover, or anything. Look, Queen Elizabeth has more diamonds than me. Why don't people attack her for it? ~ Kimora Lee Simmons

Until justice rolls down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream. ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

I love the idea I can go off with a single camera and a few rolls of film unencumbered ... I was not interested in the illusion of reality, I wanted to get close to what was happening. ~ Eve Arnold

My chair rolls to a stop. his voice cut short, followed by a thump and sliding sound. My wheelchair rolls forward again. I look back and see Ragnar pushing it innocently along. Sevro isn't in the hallway behind us. I frown, wondering where he went, till he bursts out of a side passage.
"You! Troll!" Sevro shouts. "I'm a terrorist warlord! Stop throwing me. You made me drop my candy!" Sevro looks at the floor of the hallway. "Wait. Where is it? Dammit, Ragnar. Where is my peanut bar? You know how many people I had to kill to get that? Six! Six!"
Ragnar chews quietly above me, and though I'm probably mistaken, I think I see him smile. ~ Pierce Brown

They are dying, the old oracles sent to Laius, now our masters strike them off the rolls. Nowhere Apollo's golden glory now
the gods, the gods go down. ~ Sophocles

From the passenger seat Kitty sighs heavily and rests her head against the window.
"What's up with you?" Peter asks.
"The bridesmaids won't let me go on the bachelorette night," she says. "I'm the only one left out."
I narrow my eyes at the back of her head.
"That's bullshit!" Peter looks at me in the rearview mirror. "Why won't you guys let her go?"
"We're going to a karaoke bar! We can't bring Kitty in because she's too young. Honestly, I think I was barely allowed to go."
"Why can't you guys just go to a restaurant like we're doing?"
"Because that's not a real bachelorette."
Peter rolls his eyes. "It's not like you guys are going to a strip club or something--wait, did you change your mind? Are you going to a strip club?"
"No!"
"Then what's the big deal? Just go somewhere else."
"Peter, it's not my decision. You'll have to take it up with Kristen." I smack the back of Kitty's arm. "Same goes for you, you little fiend! Quit trying to weasel your way in by manipulating Peter. He has no power here."
"Sorry, kid," Peter says.
Kitty slumps in her seat and then straightens. "What if I came to the bachelor night instead?" she suggests. "Since you're just going to a restaurant?"
Peter stutters, "Uh--uh, I don't know, I'd have to talk to the guys…"
"So you'll ask? Because I like steak too. I like it so much. I'll order steak with a baked potato on the side, and for dessert I'll have a strawberry sundae with ~ Jenny Han

There is no river in the world to be compared for majesty and the witchery of association, to the Thames; it impresses even the unreading and unimaginative watcher with a solemnity which he cannot account for, as it rolls under his feet and swirls past the buttresses of its many bridges; he may think, as he experiences the unusual effect, that it is the multiplicity of buildings which line its banks, or the crowd of sea-craft which floats upon its surface, or its own extensive spread. In reality he feels, although he cannot explain it, the countless memories which hang for ever like a spiritual fog over its rushing current.
("The Phantom Model") ~ Hume Nisbet

Fog rolls between the blackened trees.
Reminds me of hell, actually.
I pull away from Tucker, shivering.
God, I need therapy, I think.
Right. As if I can picture telling my story to a shrink, stretched out on a sofa talking about how I'm part angel, how all angel-bloods have this purpose we're put on earth to fulfill, how on the day of my purpose I happened to bump into a fallen angel. Who literally took me to hell for about five minutes. Who tried to kill my mother. And how I fought him with a type of holy light. Then I had to fly off to save a boy from a forest fire, only I didn't save him. I saved my boyfriend instead, but it turns out that the original boy didn't need saving, anyway, because he's part angel, too.
Yeah, somehow I have a feeling that my first visit to a therapist would end up with me in a straitjacket getting comfy in my new padded cell. ~ Cynthia Hand

She rolls her eyes again, but laughs this time. "You probably have callouses from jerking off too much." I hold up my right hand. "But they're on both hands, not just my left." "Ambidextrous," she deadpans. ~ Colleen Hoover

Royce Davenport, turn around and look at me," Pandora demands.

I pick up Lav and hold her up beside my face. "Would we lie to you?"

Pandora bites her lip and shakes her head. "You're not allowed to use her cuteness to get out of trouble. Come to Mama, little one."

She takes Lavender, and then I scoop the both of them in my arms and walk toward the door.

"Tell you what, why don't we let your parents watch little Lav tonight, and you and me have some alone time? You know, see what happens."

Pandora rolls her eyes, but I know she's thinking about it. ~ Alexa Riley

I know you can't be mine, but I wish it happens. ~ Pavan Desai

Calling it a simple schoolgirl crush was like saying a Rolls-Royce was a vehicle with four wheels, something like a hay-wagon. She did not giggle wildly and blush when she saw him, nor did she chalk his name on trees or write it on the walls of the Kissing Bridge. She simply lived with his face in her heart all the time, a kind of sweet, hurtful ache. She would have died for him.. ~ Stephen King

Pilot season after pilot season, I read the same part: the wife who rolls her eyes at her somewhat immature husband that she still loves. Literally. ~ Beth Littleford

What am I supposed to haul my dogs around in, a Rolls-Royce? ~ Sam Walton

Evolution is a blind giant who rolls a snowball down a hill. The ball is made of flakes - circumstances. They contribute to the mass without knowing it. They adhere without intention, and without foreseeing what is to result. When they see the result they marvel at the monster ball and wonder how the contriving of it came to be originally thought out and planned. Whereas there was no such planning, there was only a law: the ball once started, all the circumstances that happened to lie in its path would help to build it, in spite of themselves. ~ Mark Twain

There is a whirlwind in southern Morocco, the aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. There is the africo, which has at times reached into the city of Rome. The alm, a fall wind out of Yugoslavia. The arifi, also christened aref or rifi, which scorches with numerous tongues. These are permanent winds that live in the present tense.
There are other, less constant winds that change direction, that can knock down horse and rider and realign themselves anticlockwise. The bist roz leaps into Afghanistan for 170 days--burying villages. There is the hot, dry ghibli from Tunis, which rolls and rolls and produces a nervous condition. The haboob--a Sudan dust storm that dresses in bright yellow walls a thousand metres high and is followed by rain. The harmattan, which blows and eventually drowns itself into the Atlantic. Imbat, a sea breeze in North Africa. Some winds that just sigh towards the sky. Night dust storms that come with the cold. The khamsin, a dust in Egypt from March to May, named after the Arabic word for 'fifty,' blooming for fifty days--the ninth plague of Egypt. The datoo out of Gibraltar, which carries fragrance.
There is also the ------, the secret wind of the desert, whose name was erased by a king after his son died within it. And the nafhat--a blast out of Arabia. The mezzar-ifoullousen--a violent and cold southwesterly known to Berbers as 'that which plucks the fowls.' The beshabar, a black and dry northeasterly out of the Cauc ~ Michael Ondaatje

It's one thing to put on your nation's uniform to give your life for your country. But to dress up in black-market khakis and head into battle in a borrowed bush hat, armed only with a Nikon camera, 10 rolls of film and notebook, is definitely another thing. ~ Peter Arnett

Touche.
What does that mean? Jasper raises his eyebrows quizzically.
It means you're right.
Jasper rolls his eyes. Of course I'm touche. I'm always touche. ~ Jessica Brody

Having a baby isn't so bad. If you're a female Emperor penguin in the Antarctic. She lays the egg, rolls it over to the father, then takes off for warmer weather where she eats and eats and eats. For two months, the father stands stiff, without food, blind in the 24-hour dark, balancing the egg on his feet. After the little penguin is hatched, the mother sees fit to come home. ~ L. M. Boyd

Look," I whisper to Cat, "Shooting star! That's good luck."
She rolls her eyes. "It's a plane, you idiot," she says, and when I look again I can see that she's right. Typical. ~ Cathy Cassidy

Every great wave of popular passion that rolls up on the prairies is dashed to spray when it strikes the hard rocks of Manhattan. ~ H.L. Mencken

Cass rolls her eyes again. It seems to be her trademark move, and I have to fight the urge to flick her forehead. ~ Rebecca Espinoza