Vina Delmar quotes

everything that's worth having hurts in some way or other.
-- Vina Delmar

#Hurt #Pain #Way

I guess a man's best friend is his mother.
-- Vina Delmar

#Friendship #Friends #Mother

The Madcap Heiress, isn't that what the papers usually call her? Millions of dollars and no sense.
-- Vina Delmar

#Money #Dollars #Paper

I guess it was easier for her to change her name than for her whole family to change theirs.
-- Vina Delmar

#Change #Names #Awful

I would rather play with forked lightning, or take in my hand living wires with their fiery current, than to speak a reckless word against any servant of Christ, or idly repeat the slanderous darts which thousands of Christians are hurling on others, to the hurt of their own souls and bodies.

Sometimes to heal, you must first get hurt.

When you love someone, you can't lie to them. It hurts to much. It's a deception that goes too deep.

I can't do this Ash. It's killing me. Having you this close and not touching you is driving me insane. You're his Ash. You're his. You made your choice and I understand why you chose him. I don't hold it against you but dammit Ash it hurts

I get to keep you,” he said, staring at me with an intensity that made me shiver. “Keep me?” I asked, reaching up to kiss his chin and trail kisses down his perfect neck. “Not here. I can’t take much more, Pagan. I’m only so strong,” he said in a husky voice as he pulled me against his chest. “You’re mine now. While you walk the Earth you belong to me. Nothing can hurt you.” I heard a touch of humor in his voice. “It’s pretty impossible to hurt what Death protects.

In my opinion, everybody has the same soul from God and we are united by that. Outside, our bodies are different, our faces are different, but inside we are all the same, we share the same feelings of sadness, love, pain My music comes out of these feelings. Whether it is Japanese music, African, Qawalli, or any other form of music, if it touches your heart it becomes important for me.

I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit. "No," said Pooh humbly, "there isn't. But there was going to be when I began it. It's just that something happened to it along the way.

You just can't let anything or anyone get in the way of who you are.

Definition, rationality, and structure are ways of seeing, but they become prisons when they blank out other ways of seeing.

How can we say nobody's perfect if there is no perfect to compare to? Perfection implies that there really is a right and wrong way to be. And what type of perfection is the best type? Moral perfection? Aesthetic? Physiological? Mental?