Quotes by Gorges The thing about war is that once it's triggered, it is unyielding in its appetite. And the more it consumes and gorges, the more it wants. Bill Moyers gorges unyielding war Yes, we who are full to the gorge with misery should look well around, doubting everything seen, done, spoken, precisely because we have a word for it, and not its alchemy Djuna Barnes doubting-everything gorges looks There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. Ishmael gorges woe madness Let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious. Jack Kerouac gorges wisdom mind The Thanksgiving tradition is, we gorge. Hey, what about at Thanksgiving we simply consume a considerable measure? However we do that consistently! Goodness. Imagine a scenario where we consume a ton with individuals who pester the heck out of us. Jim Gaffigan gorges hey thanksgiving Gold was not altogether certain what, anatomically, a gorge was, but he knew that his was rising. Joseph Heller gorges luck gold This is what I love about the Kimberley... wild gorges, fresh water and there's always a chance of a barra taking your lure. Malcolm Douglas gorges chance water Troubles are only mental; it is the mind that manufactures them, and the mind can gorge them, banish them, abolish them. Mark Twain gorges trouble mind Froi heard Zabat's voice echo over and over again throughout the gorge. Wonderful. The gods had found a way of multiplying the idiot's voice. Melina Marchetta gorges echoes voice Drink, live like the Greeks, eat, gorge. Plautus gorges drink greek The Negro and all things negroid had become a fad, and Harlem had become a shrine to which feverish pilgrimages were in order . . . Seventh Avenue was the gorge into which Harlem cliff dwellers crowded to promenade. Wallace Thurman gorges shrines order Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? William Shakespeare gorges imagination song