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G Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with G. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All G Quotes

“Giyinip güne başlamak için yataktan kalktıklarında Chani, "Halk senin ne kadar sevgi dolu olduğunu bilse..." dedi. Ama Paul'ün ruh hali değişmişti. "Sevgi üzerinden siyaset yapılmaz," dedi. "Halkın istediği şey sevgi değildir, çünkü sevgi fazla değişkendir. Halk despotizmi yeğler. Özgürlüğün fazlası kaosa yol açar. Kaosa izin veremeyiz, değil mi? Despotizmi de nasıl sevilir hale getirebilirsin ki?" Chani eşarbını bağlarken "Sen despot değilsin!" diye karşı çıktı. "Senin kuralların adil." "Ahh, kanunlar," dedi Paul. Pencereye gidip, dışarıya bakacakmış gibi perdeleri açtı. "Kanun nedir ki? Kontrol mü? Kanunlar kaosu süzgeçten geçirir; böylece ne elde edilir? Sükunet mi? Kanun... en yüce idealimiz ve en temel doğamızdır. Kanunları fazla incelemeyeceksin. Yoksa mantık kılıfına uydurulmuş yorumlar, hukuk safsataları ve taraflıca seçilmiş örnekler bulursun. Sükunet bulursun ki bu ölümün bir başka adıdır, o kadar.”

“Già certi attimi erano impercettibilmente meno soavi, come una musica tenera e lieta che, a poco a poco, ci rattrista e ci stanca. Una cortina d’ombra, adesso, velava certi giorni. Erano passati ormai i momenti di pura gioia. Stavano raggiungendo l’istante in cui felicità e tristezza si fondono in un’oscura convergenza e d’ora in avanti saranno mescolate l’una all’altra come due fiumi che hanno fatto confluire i loro corsi.”

“Già suo padre, prima di lui, era stato un guaritore di vasi. E così anche lui guariva vasi, e a dire il vero qualsiasi manufatto di ceramica risalente ai Vecchi Tempi, prima della guerra, quando ancora non tutti gli oggetti erano fatti di plastica. Un vaso di ceramica era una cosa meravigliosa, e ogni vaso che guariva diventava un oggetto che amava, e che non dimenticava mai; la forma, la consistenza della ceramica e lo smalto, restava tutto con lui, per sempre. Quasi nessuno, tuttavia, aveva bisogno del suo lavoro, dei suoi servizi. Ormai rimanevano pochissimi manufatti di ceramica, e chi li possedeva faceva molta attenzione a che non si rompessero. Sono Joe Fernwright, si disse. Sono il miglior guaritore di vasi al mondo. Io, Joe Fernwright, sono diverso da tutti gli altri uomini.”

“Giây phút nhìn con thở yếu ớt vì uống quá nhiều thuốc ngủ, cha tưởng chừng tim mình ngừng đập. Dù thế nào, cha cũng phải vững vàng trước mặt mẹ con, nhưng lòng cha hoàn toàn trống rỗng, như thể trái tim đã đi đâu mất rồi. Cha cuống cuồng gọi xe cấp cứu, nhưng bác sĩ nói rằng coi như hết hy vọng, rằng có thể con sẽ phải sống thực vật suốt đời. Dù vậy, họ vẫn dốc lòng cứu con. Con còn ít tuổi, các y bác sĩ đã cố gắng hết sức để mang con trở về bằng mọi giá. Nhìn cảnh ấy, cha cảm động biết chừng nào. Và con hồi sinh một cách thần kỳ như để đáp lại nhiệt huyết của mọi người. Đúng lúc ấy cha đã nghĩ, người tốt hay xấu đều không còn quan trọng...”

“Gjerji raises his hand. In English he says, "I like to tell in the words of a great American philosopher what freedom is." "Say it in your language to your peers," I urge. Gyerji makes his statement. The class grows silent and thoughtful; there is much nodding. Twain perhaps? Emerson? Diana sidles up and whispers in my ear. "He says to them that freedom is a word when nothing is anymore able to be losed." Janis Joplin, de-syntaxed.”

“Glacier blue plasma rippled and sparked across the interior of the portal. “It seems keeping secrets is what you do.” “Secrets are merely the necessary means. Survival is the end goal. Survival of ourselves, survival of species who do not deserve to be eradicated from the universe. Survival of the universe itself.” “Survival’s noble and all, but what good is it without the freedom to live as you choose?” “A question you have the luxury to ask because you survive.”

“Glacier Gray is an unobtrusive gray that contrasts and enhances; bouncing off other shades without taking away from them as it slips into the background to allow other colors to take center stage. Nature’s most perfect neutral, Glacier Gray is a shade that is timeless. Quietly assuring and peacefully relaxing, Glacier Gray, is above all, constant.”

“Glad and merry and sweet is the blessed and lovely demeanour of our Lord towards our souls, for he saw us always living in love-longing, and he wants our souls to be gladly disposed toward him . . . by his grace he lifts up and will draw our outer disposition to our inward, and will make us all at unity with him, and each of us with others in the true, lasting joy which is Jesus.”

“Glad it was you and not me," Shane said, and offered Myrin a hand up. "Any brain damage?" "Since the bullet actually passed through his brain, then yes, idiot boy, there's certainly brain damage," Oliver said. "It will pass. His brain's the least fragile thing about him." "You say the nicest things," Myrin said. He was slurring his words, and he threw an arm around Oliver's neck. "Marry me.”

“Glad someone shot deserved to be shot finally, George Wallace. After you send your basket of balms And berries for the girls the bomb buried in Birmingham, After you add your palms to the psalms & palm covered Caskets of the girls the bomb buried in Birmingham, I’ll muster a pinch of prayer for you. You are the blind Protagonist of a story that begins, “In my previous life My work involved returning runaway slaves to slavery,” And ends with the image of a black nurse pushing Your old ass in a wheelchair. Can you guess what black Folk passing empty cotton fields feel, George Wallace? I damn you with the opposite of that feeling. I keep thinking I’m confessing for the first time, the reason I fear you, And you keep asking why I’m telling this old story again.”

“Glad to see word reached you. I forgot my phone and somehow throwing pebbles at random windows seemed like a losing strategy." "My roommate thinks I'm running drugs," said Dee flatly. "And that you're my dealer." James blinked. "At least she thought I looked enterprising." "She said you looked homeless." James straightened the sleeves of his orange leather jacket. "It's vintage”

“Gladiators of the Sun by Sami Abouzid Life before Gladiators of the Sun—my first electronic symphony— was a different world entirely. A world of searching, shaping, and silent dreaming. But the moment I created that first note, everything changed. A new universe opened, one that only I could hear, feel, and bring to life. Gladiators of the Sun wasn’t just music— it was a revolution inside my soul. It gave me my voice. It carved my identity into sound, and lit the path for what would become 300 symphonies, each one echoing the fire that started it all. That first symphony still lives in me— forever in my heart. It was the beginning of the Sami Abouzid style, a sonic language no one else could speak, born from pure vision, emotion, and truth. From that moment on, I never looked back. I created endlessly, fearlessly, passionately— building worlds where others only heard sound. Enjoy my music. Because when you listen, you’re not just hearing notes— you’re hearing the story of a soul that dared to dream. — Sami Abouzid”