Quotes About Myra

Myra Breckenridge is the antithesis of sex symbol. She's revolutionary; she's a warrior.

The invitation to Miss Myra St. Claire's bobbing party spent the morning in his coat pocket, where it had an intense physical affair with a dusty piece of peanut brittle.

every day to the top of the mountain and let it drink from the stream. As it drinks, you are to sing to him." She taught Elya a special song to sing to the pig. "On the day of Myra's fifteenth birthday, you should carry the pig up the mountain for the last time. Then take it directly to Myra's father. It will be fatter than any of Igor's pigs." "If it is that big and fat," asked Elya, "how will I be

The Eastern Roman emperor Theodosius II (401–450) ordered that a great church be constructed in Myra, and it became known as the Church of St. Nicholas.

God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform, as Reenie used to say. Could it be that Myra is my designated guardian angel? Or is she instead a foretaste of Purgatory? And how do you tell the difference?

Myra Hird puts it . . . Symbiosis entails the unfathomably messy entanglements that constitute temporal assemblages that sometimes emerge as symbiogenetic singularities.14

Only once did Myra's impassive public facade drop: when she stuck her tongue out at reporters as she left court.

John Kay of The Sun said to me, "Anything you can give us about Myra, I will guarantee you a front-page spread." She was as lucrative to them as Princess Diana.

My mother kept calling me out of myself. She wanted to show me a picture, the first picture from the slave-ship exhibition. 'This is unbelievable,' she said. 'Myra, you have to see this, this is unbelievable.' I cringed at how fast she was talking. Why unbelievable? This all actually happened! Why is this all so hard to believe?

Who've you set up for me tonight? Set up, Myra repeated, wrinkling her nose. What an unromantic phrase. Sorry.How about-who are you planning to loose Cupid's arrow on? It's still unromantic when you're smirking.

There is her sty,' he said, pointing a reverent finger as they crossed the little meadow dappled with buttercups and daisies. 'And that is my pigman Wellbeloved standing by it.' Myra

Blackwell's Island, now Roosevelt Island, was a nineteenth-century hellhole that housed prisoners, debtors, and the insane.

And when we had sailed across the open sea off the coast of Cilicia and Pamphylia, we came to Myra in Lycia.