Rosenberry Inn Quotes

I vividly remember a conversation I had many years ago in 1974, which marked a turning point in my leadership journey. I was sitting at a Holiday Inn with my friend, Kurt Campmeyer, when he asked me if I had a personal growth plan. I didn't. In fact, I didn't even know you were supposed to have one. ~ John C. Maxwell

We, some cast members and I, even went on a weekend trip together and spent the weekend at an inn, because we enjoy each other's company so much, and it was so cool. ~ Victor Garber

I think of life as an inn where I have to stay until the abyss coach arrives. I don't know where it will take me, for I know nothing. ~ Fernando Pessoa

One's homesickness for Heaven finds at least an inn there; and it's an inn on the right road. ~ Ruth Pitter

We are only here below as in an inn on a journey. Let us, then have the feelings of travelers. We should think a man very strange who attached himself much to his inn. The wise Christian will not do this. ~ Eugenie De Guerin

I'm fairly certain that, at this very minute, the [Mars Polar Lander] is floating somewhere around the Neptune feeling tired and cranky and looking for a Holiday Inn.
Of course, you'd have to have a heart of titanium not to feel a twinge of sadness while watching those dejected NASA scientiest waiting by the phone like the class wallflower on prom week.
On the other hand, it was kind of fun to watch a bunch of men waiting by the phone and seeing how they feel when someone promises they'll call and then YOU NEVER HEAR FROM HIM AGAIN. ~ Celia Rivenbark

In a perfect Friendship this Appreciative love is, I think, often so great and so firmly based that each member of the circle feels, in his secret heart, humbled before the rest. Sometimes he wonders what he is doing there among his betters. He is lucky beyond desert to be in such company. Especially when the whole group is together; each bringing out all that is best, wisest, or funniest in all the others. Those are the golden sessions; when four or five of us after a hard day's walk have come to our inn; when our slippers are on, our feet spread out toward the blaze and our drinks are at our elbows; when the whole world, and something beyond the world, opens itself to our minds as we talk; and no one has any claim on or any responsibility for another, but all are freemen and equals as if we had first met an hour ago, while at the same time an Affection mellowed by the years enfolds us. Life - natural life - has no better gift to give. Who could have deserved it? ~ C.S. Lewis

For I think we may look upon our little private war with death somewhat in this light. If a man knows he will sooner or later be robbed upon a journey, he will have a bottle of the best in every inn, and look upon all his extravagances as so much gained upon thieves ... So every bit of brisk living, and above all when it is healthful, is just so much gained upon the wholesale filcher, death. We shall have the less in our pockets, the more in our stomachs, when he cries stand and deliver.
An Inland Voyage ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Speaking from my own religious tradition in this Christmas season, 2,000 years ago a homeless woman gave birth to a homeless child in a manger because the inn was full. ~ Al Gore

Now, writing every day, and being paid for it and encouraged to do it, it was as if, in the midst of the clich?d dark and stormy night, I found the magical inn, its windows golden lit, and Summer was due to start tomorrow. I can only work at one thing well. Deprive me of that, and my "back-up plan," even now, will be the empty, stormy, darkened heath
where, incidentally, even unpublished, somehow I'll still be writing. ~ Tanith Lee

And what after all, is death?? 'Tis but a cessation from mortal life; 'tis but the finishing of an appointed course; the refreshing inn after a fatiguing journey; the end of a life of cares and troubles; and, if happy, the beginning of a life of immortal happiness. ~ Samuel Richardson

The Golden Court, the country town's elegant inn, was crowded and noisy. The guests, locals and visitors, were mostly engaged in activities typical for their nation or profession. Serious merchants argued with dwarves over the price of goods and credit interest. Less serious merchants pinched the backsides of the girls carrying beer, cabbage and beans. Local nitwits pretended to be well-informed. Harlots were trying to please those who had money while discouraging those who had none. Carters and fishermen drank as if there were no tomorrow. Some seamen were singing a song which celebrated the ocean waves, the courage of captains and the graces of mermaids, the latter graphically and in considerable detail. ~ Andrzej Sapkowski

Many a wrong, and it's curing song,
many a road, and many an inn,
Room to roam, but only one home,
for all the world to win.
George MacDonald, (Lilith) ~ George MacDonald

The Gerat Bald Swamp Hedgehog of Billericay displays, in courtship, his single prickle and does impressions of Holiday Inn desk clerks. Since this means him standing motionless for enormous periods of time he is often eaten in full display by The Great Bald Swamp Hedgehog Eater. ~ Mike Harding

Which illness gives you stomach pains and a limp," Crier muttered, helping Ayla through the green door of the inn.
"A bad one," Ayla retorted. ~ Nina Varela

Where are my clothes?"
He grinned unexpectedly, a perfect male smirk. "I got carried away and ripped your jeans. Just stay with me tonight, and I will get you new clothes tomorrow."
"It's nearly morning now," she pointed out, unwilling to lie down with him again. She couldn't lie beside him and not burn for him. "Besides, I want a shower."
Before Mikhail had a chance to protest, Raven slid off the bed, wrapped safely in the old-fashioned quilt, clearly thinking herself safe from him now that she'd put a little distance between them.

Mikhail kept his smile to himself. Let her feel safe--it cost him nothing. No way was she leaving his house, not with the assassins residing at her inn. ~ Christine Feehan

Nobody strikes a medal for the Royal Military Canal campaign any more, but a pint in the back bar of the ancient Mermaid Inn, perched in front of one of the biggest and oldest inglenooks you're ever likely to see, is its own reward. ~ David Hewson

What happiness there had been at that time, what freedom, what hope! What an abundance of illusions! Nothing was left of them now. She had got rid of them all in her soul's life, in all her successive conditions of life, maidenhood, her marriage, and her love - thus constantly losing them all her life through, like a traveller who leaves something of his wealth at every inn along his road. ~ Gustave Flaubert

Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket picked? ~ William Shakespeare

Murder had come back to The Hatteras West Inn, and it was a most unwelcome guest. ~ Tim Myers

Maple. Maypole
Catch and carry.
Ash and Ember.
Elderberry.
Woolen. Woman.
Moon at night.
Willow. Window.
Candlelight.
Fallow farrow.
Ash and oak.
Bide and borrow.
Chimney smoke.
Barrel. Barley.
Stone and stave.
Wind and water.
Misbehave. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

What inn is this
Where for the night
Peculiar traveller comes?
Who is the landlord?
Where are the maids?
Behold, what curious rooms!
No ruddy fires on the hearth,
No brimming tankards flow.
Necromancer, landlord,
Who are these below? ~ Emily Dickinson

In the great cities we see so little of the world, we drift into our minority. In the little towns and villages there are no minorities ; people are not numerous enough. You must see the world there, perforce. Every man is himself a class; every hour carries its new challenge. When you pass the inn at the end of the village you leave your favourite whimsy behind you; for you will meet no one who can share it. We listen to eloquent speaking, read books and write them, settle all the affairs of the universe. The dumb village multitudes pass on unchanging; the feel of the spade in the hand is no different for all our talk: good seasons and bad follow each other as of old. The dumb multitudes are no more concerned with us than is the old horse peering through the rusty gate of the village pound. The ancient map-makers wrote across unexplored regions, 'Here are lions.' Across the villages of fishermen and turners of the earth, so different are these from us, we can write but one line that is certain, 'Here are ghosts. ~ W.B. Yeats

After Ian left for the Greenleaf Inn, where he planned to stop for the night before continuing the trip to his own home, Elizabeth stayed downstairs to put out the candles and tidy up the drawing room. In one of the guest chambers above, Jordan glanced at his wife's faint, preoccupied smile and suppressed a knowing grin. "Now what do you think of the Marquess of Kensington?" he asked.
Her eyes were shining as she lifted them to his. "I think," she softly said, "that unless he does something dreadful, I'm prepared to believe he could truly be your cousin."
"Thank you, darling," Jordan replied tenderly, paraphrasing Ian's words. "I'm happy to see your opinion of him is already improving. ~ Judith McNaught

One interesting side-effect of the fire in Ankh-Morpork concerns the inn-sewer-ants policy, which left the city through the ravaged roof of the Broken Drum, was wafted high into the discworld's atmosphere on the ensuing thermal, and came to earth several days and a few thousand miles away on an uloruaha bush in the beTrobi islands. The simple, laughing islanders subsequently worshipped it as a god, much to the amusement of their more sophisticated neighbours. Strangely enough the rainfall and harvests in the next few years were almost supernaturally abundant, and this led to a research team being despatched to the islands by the Minor Religions faculty of Unseen University. Their verdict was that it only went to show. * ~ Terry Pratchett

On the road halfway between faith and criticism stands the inn of reason. reason is faith in what can be understood without faith, but it's still a faith, since to understand presupposes that there's something understandable. ~ Fernando Pessoa

I'm not leaving this cabin again until you've laid your egg."
Kellan snuggled up to Vic. "Our egg, remember?"
"Mmm. Our baby." Vic buried his nose in Kellan's hair. "This is all so surreal, but I couldn't be more thrilled."
They held each other in silence, the only sound being the rustle of the branches in the light wind and the crackle of the well-seasoned wood in the fireplace. Part of what Vic had said sunk in.
"Hey, Vic?"
"Yeah?"
"You can't stay here round the clock with it being so busy at the inn and everything. It's Christmas week. I've heard you say plenty of times that it gets crazy between now and New Year's Day."
Vic tightened his hold. "I don't care."
Kellan rolled his eyes. "But it's not fair to everyone else. It's bad enough that I'm not there helping as it is." He glanced up at Vic. "And what about food?" They took most of their meals at the restaurant since it was so convenient.
Vic stuck out his lower lip. "I'll make Dora deliver them to the cabin."
Kellan sighed. "Vic, you're not being reasonable."
He huffed. "Reasonable? Who cares about reasonable? My mate is about to lay an egg at any minute!"
Kellan let out a laugh, then grabbed his abdomen. It didn't hurt, but it sure as hell felt weird. Too much pressure.
Vic gasped, grabbing Kellan's upper arms then holding him back, his gaze roaming Kellan's body. "Is it time? Should you go lie down in the nest?"
This is going to be fu ~ M.M. Wilde

When I lived in Beijing in 1996, it was a horizontal city. If you wanted to go out for a burger, if you wanted to really treat yourself, you went to this place called the Jianguo Hotel. The architect had proudly described it as a perfect replica of a Holiday Inn that he had seen in Palo Alto, California. ~ Evan Osnos

New York has made me so paranoid, too. Whenever I visit another city, I always act like I'm from there, so the cab driver doesn't rip me off. I'm always like, "Yeah, it's good to be back home. Back here where I grew up. Yeah. Here in Tokyo ... Uh, driver, I need to go to my old stomping grounds. That would be the Holiday Inn. And the address appears to be the pound sign." ~ Jim Gaffigan

I wish you'd stop acting as if-as if everything is normal!"
"What would you have me do?" he replied, getting up and walking over to the tray of liquor. He poured some Scotch into two glasses and handed one to Jordan. "If you're waiting for me to rant and weep, you're wasting your time."
"No, at the moment I'm glad you're not given to the masculine version of hysterics. I have news, as I said, and though you aren't going to find it pleasant from a personal viewpoint, it's the best possible news from the standpoint of your trial next week. Ian," he said uneasily, "our investigators-yours, I mean-have finally picked up Elizabeth's trail."
Ian's voice was cool, his expression unmoved. "Where is she?"
"We don't know yet, but we do know she was seen traveling in company of a man on the Bernam Road two nights after she disappeared. They put up at the inn about fifteen miles north of Lister. They"-he hesitated and expelled his breath in a rush-"they were traveling as man and wife, Ian."
Other than the merest tightening of Ian's hand upon the glass of Scotch, there was no visible reaction to this staggering news, or to all its heartbreaking and unsavory implications. "There's more news, and it's as good-I mean as valuable-to us."
Ian tossed down the contents of his glass and said with icy finality, "I can't see how any news could be better. She has now proven that I didn't kill her, and at the same time she's given me irrefutable grounds for divorce. ~ Judith McNaught

I don't. I take it he was homeless." Aaron shrugged. "That's my guess. A group of them have been congregating in that grassy patch across the street from the Santa Teresa Inn. Before that, they camped in the park adjacent to the municipal swimming pool." "Who called it in?" He took off his glasses and polished ~ Sue Grafton