Hypercard Quotes

Food is a huge passion of mine, and because I want to eat whatever I want, I run every morning, and then I do weights a few times a week. It's just how I can balance eating pancakes in the morning, a big burger for lunch, and then a fat steak and cheesecake at night. ~ Matt Barr

A nice face goes a long way with me," she said. "And yours ... well, the more I look at it, the more I get to thinking, "He'll do'."
"Me, too," I said. "Every once in a while, I think about myself, "What the hell, I'll do'. ~ Haruki Murakami

I wash my face and put moisturiser on; I've never had a facial, and I don't get my hair or my nails done. I just do it all myself. ~ Imelda May

Ultimately, the number of books always exceeds the space they are granted. ~ Alberto Manguel

There is no reason why I should call myself a democrat. ~ Aleksandr Lebed

You're very polite, but I belong to another generation ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

No one ever dies wishing they'd spent more time at the office. ~ Malcolm Forbes

I love to play; a stage is a safe place for me to be. It's not that way for most folks, but I'd be lost without it. ~ Rick Danko

So often, the best way to figure out who has a shot at winning is by eliminating those that you're pretty sure don't. ~ Jeff Probst

In many ways, the church seems to hate evil more than it loves good or even God. ~ Carlton Pearson

New York is great though. If you?re here and want a one of a kind souvenir be sure to take home the police sketch of your assailant. ~ David Letterman

All the while, he was conscious of the sound of water. Dahlia was taking a shower. No matter how hard he tried to prevent it, his imagined insisted on conjuring up a vivid picture of Dahlia naked, wet, her hair slick and her face turned up to the hot spray. He closed his eyes against the image and groaned softly. Where had all his self-discipline gone? His tremendous control? He couldn't blame energy, sexual or otherwise, for his fantasies. It was the glimpse of her bare bottom, the curve of her hip. Her bare breasts gleaming at him in the sun. Or maybe it was her smile. She didn't smile often, but when she did, Nicolas could swear it was for him alone, no one else. And then there was her skin . . .
"Hey! Lover boy! Stop mooning around and hit the shower. You smell like a swamp rat, and it just doesn't do a thing to put me in the mood." Dahlia stood in the doorway, a towel wrapped around her like a sarong. Her hair was up in a towel and she was dripping water all over the floor. She'd obviously come downstairs straight from her shower to scold him for his indiscretions, but changed her mind.
"You're not helping me with my overactive imagination," he pointed out as he walked toward her. ~ Christine Feehan