Dolar Da Son Durum Quotes

#1. (Da) "Sorry, Son, what was that? I was too busy ignoring you."
(Later) "Sorry, Son, I missed that," Ma said. "Ignoring you can be a full-time job. - Author: Brian Farrey

#2. I am not the man I once was. I do not want to go back in time, to be the second son, the second man. - Author: Vasco Da Gama

#3. He was a bad, bad bastard. He abused the privilege of being a cunt, as my old Da would say.' I smiled, picturing the cozy fireside scene of young son on father's knee being inducted into the world of abusive epithets. - Author: Craig Russell

#4. Do not imitate one another's style. If you do, so far as your art is concerned you will be called a grandson, rather than the son of Nature. - Author: Leonardo Da Vinci

#5. I am the son of an illiterate father and mother - Author: Luiz Inacio Lula Da Silva

#6. Those clothes are Susie's,' my father said calmly when he reached him.
Buckley looked down at my blackwatch dress that he held in his hand.
My father stepped closer, took the dress from my brother, and then, without speaking, he gathered the rest of my clothes, which Buckley had piled on the lawn. As he turned in silence toward the house, hardly breathing, clutching my clothes to him, it sparked.
I was the only one to see the colors. Just near Buckley's ears and on the tips of his cheeks and chin he was a little orange somehow, a little red.
Why can't I use them?' he asked.
It landed in my father's back like a fist.
Why can't I use those clothes to stake my tomatoes?'
My father turned around. He saw his son standing there, behind him the perfect plot of muddy, churned-up earth spotted with tiny seedlings. 'How can you ask me that question?'
You have to choose. It's not fair,' my brother said.
Buck?' My father held my clothes against his chest.
I watched Buckley flare and light. Behind him was the sun of the goldenrod hedge, twice as tall as it had been at my death.
I'm tired of it!' Buckley blared. 'Keesha's dad died and she's okay?'
Is Keesha a girl at school?'
Yes!'
My father was frozen. He could feel the dew that had gathered on his bare ankles and feet, could feel the ground underneath him, cold and moist and stirring with possibility.
I'm sorry. When did this happen?'
That's not the point, Da - Author: Alice Sebold

#7. Gavin finally clears his throat to fill the awkward silence. "Tavish, Lorne. Will you permit me to introduce - "

The large man - Lorne - laughs, and it's a deep rumble in his chest. "Permit me. Well, la-di-da Lord-I-Have-an-Earldom."

"Don't be an arsehole, Lorne," Tavish says. "There's a lady present, for god's sake, man." Then he looks at me. "I'm Tavish - uh, Mr. Gray." He smacks his companion in the stomach, who lets out a hearty oof. "And this impolite son of a bitch is Mr. Candish."

"If you call me Mr. Candish," Lorne says, "I won't bother responding."

"Well," Gavin says, "after that unseemly introduction . . ." He gestures to me. "This is Lady Aileana Kameron." He turns to Kiaran, rather reluctantly. "And you've already seen Kiaran, who is - "

"Leaving," Kiaran interrupts briskly. "My threshold for human tolerance is now exceeded. Send the pixie for me in the event I get to stab something."

With that, Kiaran turns on his heel and strides out of the room. Damn him. - Author: Elizabeth May

#8. Father and son had been on poor terms (even Cicero acknowledged this) and it was arranged for the young man to be accused of parricide. This was among the most serious offenses in the charge book and was one of the few crimes to attract the death penalty under Roman law. The method of execution was extremely unpleasant. An ancient legal authority described what took place: According to the custom of our ancestors it was established that the parricide should be beaten with blood-red rods, sewn in a leather sack together with a dog [an animal despised by Greeks and Romans], a cock [like the parricide devoid of all feelings of affection], a viper [whose mother was supposed to die when it was born], and an ape [a caricature of a man], and the sack thrown into the depths of the sea or a river. - Author: Anthony Everitt

#9. Pennsylvania couldn't be prouder of our native son, Joe Biden from Scranton. No one knows us better than Joe. - Author: Bob Casey, Jr.

#10. An adopted son shall never take the family, name and the estate of his natural father, the funeral cake follows the family, name and the estate, the funeral offerings of him who gives ,his son in adoption cease, as far as that son is concerned. - Author: Guru Nanak

#11. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
 all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. - Author: Julia Ward Howe

#12. If your deepest feelings are reserved for something other than Almighty God, then that something other is an emotional idol... if you get more excited about material things than the simple yet profound fact that your sin was nailed to the cross by the sinless Son of God, then you're bowing down to Tammuz. - Author: Mark Batterson

#13. A Christian is one who recognizes Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God, as God manifested in the flesh, loving us and dying for our redemption; and who is so affected by a sense of the love of this incarnate God as to be constrained to make the will of Christ the rule of his obedience, and the glory of Christ the great end for which He lives. - Author: Charles Hodge

#14. I raised you for fifteen years. I fed you and clothed you. I loved you and still do. I love you because you have been with me for fifteen years. I am your mother because we have been together your whole childhood. I have earned you as my son. - Author: Joseph Fink

#15.
When you look out across the fields
And you both see the same star
Pitching its tent on the point of the steeple -
That is the time to set out on your journey,
With half a loaf and your mother's blessing.

Leave behind the places that you knew:
All that you leave behind you will find once more,
You will find it in the stories;
The sleeping beauty in her high tower
With her talking cat asleep
Solid beside her feet - you will see her again.

When the cat wakes up he will speak in Irish and Russian
And every night he will tell you a different tale
About the firebird that stole the golden apples,
Gone every morning out of the emperor's garden,
And about the King of Ireland's Son and the Enchanter's Daughter.

The story the cat does not know is the Book of Ruth
And I have no time to tell you how she fared
When she went out at night and she was afraid,
In the beginning of the barley harvest,
Or how she trusted to strangers and stood by her word:

You will have to trust me, she lived happily ever after.

- Author: Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin

#16. To be a child means to owe one's existence to another, and even in our adult life we never quite reach the point where we no longer have to give thanks for being the person we are. - Author: Hans Urs Von Balthasar

#17. Fine gold is recognized when it is tested. - Author: Leonardo Da Vinci

#18. Another guy came in, and he said he was quitting his job at the Research Laboratory; said anything a scientist worked on was sure to wind up as a weapon, one way or another. Said he didn't want to help politicians with their fugging wars anymore. Name was Breed. I asked him if he was any relation to the boss of the fugging Research Laboratory. He said he fugging well was. Said he was the boss of the Research Laboratory's fugging son. - Author: Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

#19. It seems like just yesterday my son was hiding under the table to avoid reading. Now, he's writing books longer than mine! - Author: Rick Riordan

#20. Julia played for them: for her husband and her beloved son. And tried to believe somewhere in her heart that, wherever they were, they could hear her. - Author: Lucinda Riley

#21. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. Visit me in my affliction; give me a sense of oneness in you, a home in you. Do not let me escape. - Author: Seth Haines

#22. ….two slate-colored gravestones settled at a slant into the lower corner of the field beside the lane. She could not read the names engraved on them, but she knew what they were. Joseph Watson, 1820-1891, and James Watson, son of Joseph and Hannah Watson, 1844-1863. The grave of Hannah Watson lay beside her husband's and because she had died last, she had no marker, unless the pine tree growing there might count as one. To-morrow two men would drive up and leave a basket of flowers and a flag for Joseph because he had fought in the Civil War, and for James because he had died on his way home from it, but they would not have anything for Hannah because she had only identified her son James one hot summer day on the platform of North Derwich Station, and raised all the food her husband ate for twenty years as he sat in a chair in her kitchen, and done washings for Mrs. Hale to buy monuments for them at the end. But the flowers would die in the boxes; even if Jen found time to go down and set out the pansy plants in the ground, stray cows were sure to eat them off before the summer was over; and the Forrest children would take the flags to play with. Nothing would interfere with the tree. - Author: Gladys Hasty Carroll

#23. Dear God, master of the universe, compassionate and merciful: we who are steeped in sin, kneel in supplication before your throne and beseech you to recall from this world Saadat Hasan Manto, son of Ghulam Hasan Manto, who was a man of great piety. Take him away, Lord, for he runs away from fragrance and chases after filth. He hates the bright sun, preferring dark labyrinths. He has nothing but contempt for modesty but is fascinated by the naked and the shameless. He hates sweetness, but will give his life to taste bitter fruit. He will not so much as look at housewives but is in seventh heaven in the company of whores. He will not go near running waters, but loves to wade through filth. Where others weep, he laughs; and where others laugh, he weeps. Faces blackened by evil, he loves to wash with tender care to make visible their real features. He never thinks about you but follows Satan everywhere, the same fallen angel who once disobeyed you. - Author: Saadat Hasan Manto

#24. Son, brother, father, lover, friend. There is room in the heart for all the affections, as there is room in heaven for all the stars. - Author: Victor Hugo

#25. In the official imperial theology, the titles "Son of God" and "Lord" usually applied to the emperor and the word "gospel" referred to his achievements. By speaking of Jesus in these terms, Paul was tacitly inviting the Roman community to declare its loyalty to the true ruler of the universe. Members were to become co-conspirators with him in acknowledging that, unbeknownst to the powers that be, a fundamental change had occurred when God had vindicated the crucified Messiah.49 - Author: Karen Armstrong

#26. Love is a powerful tie, son. At the end, it's the thing that pulls us back together when everything else has pulled us apart. - Author: Leonard Pitts Jr.

#27. You'll never know what hit you, son. - Author: Norman Mohamad

#28. I came here as a son seeking his father's approval, hoping you could recognize what she and I have. But, it appears you're business as usual. - Author: Nicole Gulla

#29. I'm the man falling in love with you, Maisy. I'm the man falling in love with your son. - Author: Devney Perry

#30. A friend of mine has a daughter who . . . . was constantly writing home for more money. . . . At one point . . . the daughter explained, "But dad, I can tell you where every penny you have sent me has been spent."

He replied, "You don't seem to get the point. I'm interested in a budget--a plan for spending--not in a diary of where the money has gone."

Perhaps parents should be more like the father of the college boy who wired home, "No mon, no fun, your son." His father wired back, "How sad, too bad, your dad. - Author: N. Eldon Tanner

#31. You know, son, in life you're
going to have some good days and some crappy ones. Maybe more crappy ones than good
ones, but whatever you do, don't you ever give up. Make sure to push yourself
the farthest you can go. If you want something bad enough, you have to fight
for it. If you're not happy with your life, you and only you have
to do something to change it. - Author: E.L. Montes

#32. Many Eastern spiritual groups feel that women are not capable of enlightenment. They advise women to have sons and pray to be men in their next incarnations - Author: Frederick Lenz

#33. The two greatest plays ever written were Hamlet and Oedipus Rex, and they're both about father-son relationships. - Author: Arthur Miller

#34. The summer my daughters were six and four, we were at the beach one day and went for a long walk. It was astonishingly hot, and the sun, bouncing off a clear sea and blinding sand, was relentless. Wearing bikini bottoms but no tops, my children alternated between making sandpiles and running into the sea to cool off. The beach was empty. Eventually a woman and her son appeared in the distance, moving lazily in our direction. The boy seemed to be around the same age. Eventually the children came together, playing in the water with on another but not talking. His mother and I, farther back in each direction, waved and smiled.
I thought we would just keep walking, but when we got close to the children, she said loudly, 'You really should put tops on them.' At first, I didn't understand her.
'Thanks,' I replied. 'They're covered in sunscreen.'
'They're girls,' she said. It wasn't until she was near my daughters that she'd realized this.
I was dumbfounded. She might have been equally dumbfounded if I had taken the time to explain that her statement was an overtly sexist sexualization. The four children were physically indistinguishable, physically active on a hot beach. When I made no move toward shielding her son from the girls' scary, tempting, and corrupting bodies, she pulled him out of the water by the arm. They rushed down the beach before it crossed my mind to whip off my own top. Aggression takes many forms. - Author: Soraya Chemaly

#35. Exoneration of Jesus Christ If Christ was in fact God, he knew all the future.
Before Him like a panorama moved the history yet to be. He knew how his words would be interpreted.

He knew what crimes, what horrors, what infamies, would be committed in his name. He knew that the hungry flames of persecution would climb around the limbs of countless martyrs. He knew that thousands and thousands of brave men and women would languish in dungeons in darkness, filled with pain.

He knew that his church would invent and use instruments of torture; that his followers would appeal to whip and fagot, to chain and rack. He saw the horizon of the future lurid with the flames of the auto da fe.

He knew what creeds would spring like poisonous fungi from every text. He saw the ignorant sects waging war against each other.

He saw thousands of men, under the orders of priests, building prisons for their fellow-men. He saw thousands of scaffolds dripping with the best and bravest blood. He saw his followers using the instruments of pain. He heard the groans - saw the faces white with agony.

He heard the shrieks and sobs and cries of all the moaning, martyred multitudes. He knew that commentaries would be written on his words with swords, to be read by the light of fagots. He knew that the Inquisition would be born of the teachings attributed to him. He saw the interpolations and falsehoods that hypocrisy would write and tell. He saw all - Author: Robert G. Ingersoll

#36. If a son has a peaceful relationship with his father, if neither of them ever shows contempt for the other, then either the father is a fool, or the son is. - Author: Abhaidev

#37. She made me safe. Safe to fail. Safe to be nothing more or less than a roofer's son from upstate New York. - Author: C.D. Reiss

#38. Mike continued to walk unhurriedly toward the crowd until he loomed up in the stereo tank in life size, as if he were in the room with his water brothers. He stopped on the grass verge in front of the hotel, a few feet from the crowd. "You called me?"
He was answered with a growl.
The sky held scattered clouds; at that instant the sun came out from behind one and a shaft of golden light hit him.
His clothes vanished. He stood before them, a golden youth, clothed only in his own beauty, beauty that made Jubal's heart ache, thinking that Michelangelo in his ancient years would have climbed down from his high scaffolding to record it for generations unborn. Mike said gently, "Look at me. I am a son of man." . . . .
"God damn you!" A half brick caught Mike in the ribs. He turned his face slightly toward his assailant. "But you yourself are God. You can damn only yourself and you can never escape yourself."
"Blasphemer!" A rock caught him just over his left eye and blood welled forth.
Mike said calmly, "In fighting me, you fight yourself... for Thou art God and I am God * . . and all that groks is God-there is no other."
More rocks hit him, from various directions; he began to bleed in several places. "Hear the Truth. You need not hate, you need not fight, you need not fear. I offer you the water of life-" Suddenly his hand held a tumbler of water, sparkling in the sunlight. "-and you may share it whenever you so will . . . and walk - Author: Robert A. Heinlein

#39. That woman was sexy ... Out of your league? Son, let women figure out why they won't screw you. Don't do it for them. - Author: Justin Halpern

#40. All we have to do is pick which word to use based on whom we're talking about: soy for "I am", es for "he/she/it is", son for "they are", eres for "you are", or somos for "we are". - Author: Timothy Moser

#41. I buried my father in my heart.
Now he grows in me, my strange son,
my little root who won't drink milk,
little pale foot sunk in unheard-of night,
little clock spring newly wet
in the fire, little grape, parent to the future
wine, a son the fruit of his own son,
little father I ransom with my life - Author: Li-Young Lee

#42. O SON OF MAN! My calamity is My providence, outwardly it is fire and vengeance, but inwardly it is light and mercy. Hasten thereunto that thou mayest become an eternal light and an immortal spirit. This is My command unto thee, do thou observe it. - Author: Bahaullah

#43. So buy a home. Find a pretty girl to marry. Settle down and start a family."
Bram shook his head. Impossible suggestions, all. He was not about to resign his commission at the age of nine-and-twenty, while England remained at war. And he damned well wasn't going to marry. Like his father before him, he intended to serve until they pried his flintlock from his cold, dead grip. And while officers were permitted to bring their wives, Bram firmly believed gently bred women didn't belong on campaign. His own mother was proof of that. She'd succumbed to the bloody flux in India, a short time before young Bram had been sent to England for school.
He sat forward in his chair. "Sir Lewis, you don't understand. I cut my teeth on rationed biscuit. I could march before I could speak. I'm not a man to settle down. While England remains at war, I cannot and will not resign my commission. It's more than my duty, sir. It's my life. I…" He shook his head. "I can't do anything else."
"If you won't resign, there are other ways of helping the war effort."
"Deuce it, I've been through all this with my superiors. I will not accept a so-called promotion that means shuffling papers in the War Office." He gestured at the alabaster sarcophagus in the corner. "You might as well stuff me in that coffin and seal the lid. I am a soldier, not a secretary."
The man's blue eyes softened. "You're a man, Victor. You're human."
"I'm my father's son," he shot back, pounding the desk - Author: Tessa Dare