Phrase For The Day Quotes

The word for the day is: legs - the phrase for the day is: Spread the word. - Major Mac Pecan ~ Ray Palla

At spare moments in the day, make it a point to contemplate the loss of whatever you value in life. It can make you realize, if only for a time, how lucky you are - how much you have to be thankful for, almost regardless of your circumstances ... ~ William Braxton Irvine

I don't want to be looking inside my ego, my stuff, my achievements, my me, me, me, me, I hate that stuff. I just want to be out there eh to the last day of my life ah interested in the world, in causes, in helping other people. Um that doesn't mean that I don't have a spiritual practice, that I don't look at my own soul, that I don't prepare myself for the that transition that death is but I cannot sit in meditation to contemplate my navel for the rest of my life. That would be boring for me. ~ Isabel Allende

What he confessed was this. He had not been serving God, after all, when he followed Allen Dulles. He had been on a satanic quest.
These were some of James Jesus Angleton's dying words. He delivered them between fits of calamitous coughing - lung-scraping seizures that still failed to break him of his cigarette habit - and soothing sips of tea. "Fundamentally, the founding fathers of U.S. intelligence were liars," Angleton told Trento in an emotionless voice. "The better you lied and the more you betrayed, the more likely you would be promoted. . . . Outside of their duplicity, the only thing they had in common was a desire for absolute power. I did things that, in looking back on my life, I regret. But I was part of it and loved being in it."
He invoked the names of the high eminences who had run the CIA in his day - Dulles, Helms, Wisner. These men were "the grand masters," he said. "If you were in a room with them, you were in a room full of people that you had to believe would deservedly end up in hell."
Angleton took another slow sip from his steaming cup. "I guess I will see them there soon. ~ David Talbot

On a perfect weekend, I'll stay in bed until I am rested, though I am not someone who sleeps late. Then I'll go for a run through the parks nearby, even if it is frosty and cold, and I love meeting friends for brunch. You know you are truly on a day off if you have time to do brunch. ~ Birgitte Hjort Sorensen

[On Napoleon:] The Emperor is too grand for anybody to tell him the truth, everybody who surrounds him flatters him all day long. ~ Josephine De Beauharnais

Algiers was on the brink.

Before being recruited by the CIA, she had been a member of the ISA, known as "the Activity," one of the last truly dark units
within the DOD. Her job was to collect actionable intelligence for Special Operations units like Delta and SEAL Team 6.


Her decision to leave the Army was the only time Meg hadn't listened to her father, General "Black Jack" Harden. Not only
did he want her to stay in, but he was willing to call in some favors after she got passed over for major.


"I appreciate it, Dad, but I don't take charity," she had told him.

"All you have to do is keep your mouth shut and play the game. How hard is that?" he'd demanded. The Army was his life and
to this day he still didn't understand why she'd left ~ Sean Parnell

End your day by privately looking directly into your eyes in the mirror and saying, 'I love you'. Do this for thirty days and watch how you transform. ~ Mark Victor Hansen

Transparency has existed ever since there has been a man and the sky above him. For the past ten thousand years every new day has offered a simple experience with its own spectacle; from a day sky into the sky at night; from oneself into the vast universe.
Imagine creating the House of Tears where the heart can be educated in the ways of the sky; transcending itself.
Transparency is its step, door and fireplace. Becoming one with it, is its windows. ~ Adam Kovacevic

Spoke of the professional men and the artists as villeins. What else are they? One and all, the professors, the preachers, and the editors, hold their jobs by serving the Plutocracy, and their service consists of propagating only such ideas as are either harmless to or commendatory of the Plutocracy. Whenever they propagate ideas that menace the Plutocracy, they lose their jobs, in which case, if they have not provided for the rainy day, they descend into the proletariat and either perish or become working-class agitators. And don't forget that it is the press, the pulpit, and the university that mould public opinion, set the thought-pace of the nation. As for the artists, they merely pander to the little less than ignoble tastes of the Plutocracy. But ~ Jack London

There was some kind of cultural cause for the decline of the ancient world. It was neither corruption of public spirit nor Christianity. It was due to the rise of the logocentric culture rooted in written text. This engendered, in general, a conservative, backward-looking frame of mind, hostile to critical military and technological innovation. It widened the gap between the highly literate elite and the still-illiterate masses. It aroused social strains that the imperial government would not, or perhaps could not, confront. Once the Visigoths had won a lucky battle or two, a general pessimism, docility, and privatism settled in.
"The ancients had a phrase for this. They said the world was 'growing old.' It was a mature culture. The Roman in late antiquity needed social and intellectual restoration, not more intensive cultivation of the classical heritage. ~ Norman F. Cantor

This was the way we loved, until the night became a silent day. And as I lay there with her I could see how important physical love was, how necessary it was for us to be in each other's arms, giving and taking. The universe was exploding, each particle away from the next, hurtling us into dark and lonely space, eternally tearing us away from each other - child out of the womb, friend away from friend, moving from each other, each through his own pathway toward the goal-box of solitary death.
But this was the counterweight, the act of binding and holding. As when men to keep from being swept overboard in the storm clutch at each other's hands to resist being torn apart, so our bodies fused a link in the human chain that kept us from being swept into nothing. ~ Daniel Keyes

May it [American independence] be to the world, what I believe it will be, (to some parts sooner, to others later, but finally to all,) the signal of arousing men to burst the chains under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded them to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings and security of self-government. That form which we have substituted, restores the free right to the unbounded exercise of reason and freedom of opinion. All eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. The general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately... These are grounds of hope for others. For ourselves, let the annual return of this day forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them.

[Letter to Roger C. Weightman on the anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776, 24 June 1826. This was Jefferson's last letter] ~ Thomas Jefferson

Who do I write for? I thought about this again and again over the next few days until the answer crystalized in my consciousness. I write for all readers. But my primary interest is in representing the complex but universal experience of Somalis. I do this because the media representation of the global Somali community is one that is carved out of derivative clichés crammed with pirates, warlords, terrorists, passive women and girls whose entire existence seems to be nothing more than a footnote on the primitive dangers of female genital mutilation. I write because I want to give a long-overdue voice to a community that has experienced a tremendous array of challenges but who constantly face these challenges with the most wicked sense of humour, humility and dignity. My father always used to tell me that in our culture, the done thing when you're facing hardship and your belly is empty is to moisturize your face, comb your hair, press your clothes and step out into the sun with your sense of humanity intact. It's a lesson I've carried with me to this day. ~ Diriye Osman

Before we leave, we pick up the casings, bright red in the dull dead leaves. My cheek is also red. The next day a bruise will show. But for now it is hot, and I am happy, exhilarated, still quivering with the anticipation of something already passed. ~ Randon Billings Noble

One day it would be over for all, that terrible dream of everlasting changes that held us to a place that never should have been if its greatest intention led only to wallowing in the muck of eternity. ~ Thomas Ligotti

One day, your beauty will manifest in someone's eye. ~ Anthony Liccione

Leave your imagination wild to dive in the Ideas of success.

Let go of your dreams only when you have fulfilled it.

Let the hardship lay the firm foundation of your SUCCESS

Light up your future , with your present

Limits are what we set for ourselves otherwise sky is the limit

Living your DREAMS Is better any day, than living your fears. ~ Harsh Malik

And then there was pain and blood and tears, all those things that cause suffering and revolt, the killing of Françoise, the killing of Fouan, vice triumphing, and the stinking, bloodthirsty peasants, vermin who disgrace and exploit the earth. But can you really know? Just as the frost that burns the crops, the hail that chops them down, the thunderstorms which batter them are all perhaps necessary, maybe blood and tears are needed to keep the world going. And how important is human misery when weighed against the mighty mechanism of the stars and the sun? What does God care for us? We earn our bread only by dint of a cruel struggle, day in, day out. And only the earth is immortal, the Great Mother from whom we spring and to whom we return, love of whom can drive us to crime and through whom life is perpetually preserved for her own inscrutable ends, in which even our wretched degraded nature has its part to play. ~ Emile Zola

I wish I had an angel of love, whom I could bring a night so bright, that if God even comes down from heaven above, would watch me kiss her and hold her tight. Silence will speak the words I would, while the night gets caught in her hair, and nothing he could do that God could, than drown within my blind prayer. The day would rest for an eternity, and the moment be left untouched, as time would join the fraternity, and the worlds of universe shushed. ~ Harpreet Singh Nanda

Another sketch-this one of Gabriel-hung on the all above the water cask. It swiveled gently on a single tack; or rather, the paper hung plump with gravity while the whole ship swiveled around it. She'd captured Gabriel's toothy, inoffensive grin and the devilish gleam in his eye, and the effect of the paper's constant, subtle rocking was to make the image come alive. Softly, strangely-the portrait of Gabriel was laughing.
Gray shook himself. Laughing at him, most likely.
"She comes here?" he asked.
"Aye. That she does. Every morning." Gabriel straightened his hunched spine and adopted a cultured tone. "We take tea."
Gray frowned. One more place he'd have to avoid-the galley at morning teatime. "See to it that she eats something. Slip more milk in her tea. Make her treacle duff every day, if she cares for it. Are you giving her a daily ration of lime juice?"
Gabriel smiled down at the salt pork. "Yes, sir."
"Double it."
"Yes, sir." Gabriel's grin widened.
"And stop grinning, damn it."
"Yes, sir." The old man practically sang the words as he pounded away at the meat. "Never thought I'd live to see the day. ~ Tessa Dare

I think sometimes soap acting gets an unfair label for being bad and over the top. The lessons I learned there were so valuable. Seeing yourself every day on television, you learned what worked and didn't work, what was bad acting and what wasn't. Memorizing scripts became second nature. ~ Dylan Bruce

One hobby I did not pick up was crocheting, an obsession among prisoners throughout the system. Some of the handiwork was impressive. The inmate who ran the laundry was a surly rural white woman named Nancy whose dislike for anyone but "northerners" was hardly a secret. Her personality left a lot to be desired, but she was a remarkable crochet artist. One day in C Dorm I happened upon Nancy standing with my neighbor Allie B. and mopey Sally, all howling with laughter. "What?" I asked, innocently. "Show her, Nancy!" giggled Allie. Nancy opened her hand. Perched there in her palm was an astonishingly lifelike crochet penis. Average in size, it was erect, fashioned of pink cotton yarn, with balls and a smattering of brown cotton pubic hair, and a squirt of white yarn ejaculate at the tip. ~ Piper Kerman

The monk assumes a robe, changes his name, shaves his head, enters a cell and takes a vow of poverty and chastity; in the East he has one loin cloth, one robe, one meal a day - and we all respect such poverty. But those men who have assumed the robe of poverty are still inwardly, psychologically, rich with the things of society because they are still seeking position and prestige; they belong to this order or that order, this religion or that religion; they still live in the divisions of a culture, a tradition. That is not poverty. poverty is to be completely free of society, though one may have a few more clothes, a few more meals - good God, who cares? But unfortunately in most people there is this urge for exhibitionism. ~ Jiddu Krishnamurti

A buddha lives in the orgasmic state for twenty-four hours, day in and day out. Between the day Gautama Buddha became enlightened and the day he died there is a distance of forty-two years. For these forty-two years he was utterly in an orgasmic state. Just think! Those few moments you have are nothing compared to a Buddha's. ~ Osho

At the bakery it's just me. It's a small place. Just me and the raspberry horns and the tourtiere pies and my cigarette going in the ashtray near the black sink. Every once in a while a car passes through the dark street outside the storefont windows, but that's pretty much all I see of people while I'm there, until the end of my shift at eight when Monica shows up to open the store for the day. A solid twelve hours by myself, nothing but the radio to keep me company, and I like it just fine, being alone. It's even better in the winter, during a storm, when the snow piles up outside and no cars come by at all. Inside the bakery it's warm and there's plenty to keep my hands busy. Times like that, for all I can tell I'm the only person left on earth. I could go on making pies and watching the snow pile up until the end of time, so long as there was enough coffee on hand. I don't need company like some people seem to. ~ Ron Currie Jr.

Bean Throwing Day (Japan): Usually February 3 or q,. A day to toss away your bad luck and welcome good fortune. Try making a bean salad, then plant at least one of the beans in the earth near your home for providence all year.
So ~ Patricia J. Telesco

You were just too young. And in the wrong place at the wrong time in my life."
"A likely excuse. I haven't been 'too young' for some time, and it's taken you nine years to even kiss me again. At this rate, you'll only advance to ravishing me when I'm forty."
He dearly hoped he'd be ravishing her at forty. And thirty-five and twenty-nine and the day after tomorrow.
Or today. That would certainly move his process along. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Autumn has come to northeast Montana. The vapor of one's breath, the clarity of the stars, the smell of wood smoke, the stones underfoot that even a full day of sunlight won't warm- these all say there will be no more days that can be mistaken for summer. ~ Larry Watson

The day the world ends, no one will be there, just as no one was there when it began. This is a scandal. Such a scandal for the human race that it is indeed capable collectively, out of spite, of hastening the end of the world by all means just so it can enjoy the show. ~ Jean Baudrillard

A woman lives under pressure on a daily basis. Nearly every day a woman is being criticized for the way she looks, thinks, acts, how she raises her children and her role in the workplace. She is criticized by other women, her husband and/or significant other, her children, family, and friends. Goodness gracious, when will a woman's love ever be good enough?
She's constantly beaten down by being told what she's doing wrong, and barely hears what she has done right. Needless to say, she isn't praised for her accomplishments; often, all she hears is criticism. I would love to see the detractors walk in her shoes for a while. ~ Charlena E. Jackson

What was it, she wondered, this need to brandish his shiny new metropolitan life at her? As soon as she'd met him at the arrivals gate on his return from Thailand, lithe and brown and shaven-headed, she knew that there was no chance of a relationship between them. Too much had happened to him, too little had happened to her. Even so this would be the third girlfriend, lover, whatever, that she had met in the last nine months, Dexter presenting them up to her like a dog with a fat pigeon in his mouth. Was it some kind of some sick revenge for something? Because she got a better degree than him? Didn't he know what this was doing to her, sat at table nine with their groins jammed in each other's faces? ~ David Nicholls

I'd have to say Steven Gerrard has been the biggest influence in my career so far. I watched him when I was younger and then to go and play and train with him every day is massive for me, and still is now. ~ Jordan Henderson

I don't know him, Jo, and neither do you. Going to his house without telling anyone is dangerous."
"Who do we really know until we've crossed that line? No one. But for once, in a very long time, I felt ... free. Free from my guilt and self-hatred. Free from the pain I feel every damn day. But it took me crossing that line, Tyler, to find that freedom. ~ Brandy Nacole