Quotes About World

Willibald Mattern, a German emigre in Santiago de Chile, had spun a powerful tale of Nazi resurgence. His book, UFOs: Unbekanntes Flugobjekt? Letzte Geheimwaffe des Dritten Reiches (UFOs: Unidentified flying object? Last secret weapon of the Third Reich) (1974), described how thousands of Nazi UFOs will one day fly forth from the South Pole to restore German world power against a scenario of increasing racial chaos and economic catastrophe in a final act of deliverance.

If you take any world problem, any issue on the planet, the solution to that problem certainly includes education. In education, the roadblock is the laptop.

The great offensives of the future would be psychological, and . . . the most deadly weapon in the world was the power of mass-persuasion . . . In

As a girl, she had come to believe in the ideal man -- the prince or knight of her childhood stories. In the real world, however, men like that simply didn't exist.

For me, as a beginning novelist, all other living writers form a control group for whom the world is a placebo.

As soon as I open this door, I'll be free. FREE! No more goofy cats screaming in my face and eating my shoes. No more biting and scratching and chasing me down the street. Outside this door is a big, wonderful world where goofy cats don't turn into furry whirlwinds that hit me on the head with a spatula. And soon I will be a part of that world once again!

T]he luminous and shocking beauty of the everyday is something I try to remain alert to, if only as an antidote to the chronic cynicism and disenchantment that seems to surround everything, these days. It tells me that, despite how debased or corrupt we are told humanity is and how degraded the world has become, it just keeps on being beautiful. It can't help it.

You have to operate, at least some of the time, in the world of mystery, beneath that great and terrifying cloud of artistic unknowing

Good newspapers believe in giving a balanced view of the world. Fine. Some people then exploit that belief and use it to balance truth with falsehood.

There is a physics to the world, which non-fiction has a contract to stand in awe of, otherwise it becomes completely self-centered and ego-driven, which is the death of a memoir.

Church of the living God! Be warned. Please not thyself, even as Jesus pleased not Himself. Live for Him, not for thyself, for Him not for the world. Walk worthy of thy name and calling, worthy of Him who bought thee as His bride, worthy of thine everlasting inheritance. HORATIUS BONAR

black writers across the world need to connect. All writers, but especially writers of colour, suffer a crisis of confidence about their work.

The tour was really our first exposure to the world of rock'n' roll as we had always imagined it. Pop stars with tight trousers and loose morals accompanied by screaming girls with tight dresses and even looser morals.

I sipped the coffee. It was delicious, perfectly prepared, as I imagine anything prepared by Annie Miclasz would be. One of those formidable women who felt they had to hide their efficiency behind a soft, caring front; who hid for so long that the front became real; one of the women who kept the world turning; one of the women it paid to never, ever cross.

We sat silently, contemplating the ghosts we had created between us, and the difference between our world and that of most people.

She was already going to that place, the heart-stopping moment when the world pauses, the resumes as a crystal dream.

Vibration seeped through Ollfoss like the smell of grass after rain, resonating with the pulse of the world, its heartbeat.

Fursey, hostage to the king and tutor to the light of the world, was fond of good wine and long conversations at meat about the wrongs of the world and how to right them, and in the course of things the long conversations naturally made him more thirsty.

These are tales of the world," she told her. "All the adventure, all the different and new you need.

Poison had made the world so beautiful.

The world felt rude and fragile and new as though she had lately risen from her sickbed.

Stay in the world, she had said, and this was the world I had made.

After the white wax light, bright as moonlight, the broad flame flaring and dying in the rough clay dish felt like something from the beginning of the world. The water gleamed, ocher and black.

Hild remembered her mother's words exactly-the light of the world must remember everything.