A Quote by Darci Lynne Farmer

I'm a person who hates practicing. It's my arch-nemesis, but it helps. — © Darci Lynne Farmer
I'm a person who hates practicing. It's my arch-nemesis, but it helps.
I went from being a junior - and probably set to be Kushida's arch-nemesis until the cows came home - to suddenly being vaulted into the heavyweight title picture for the Intercontinental championship. That taught me a lesson: I couldn't put a limit on myself.
We've got a Muslim for a president who hates cowboys, hates cowgirls, hates fishing, hates farming, loves gays and we hate him!
God hates a half-devil ten times more than an arch-devil!
I really cannot understand the point of what you're saying. Really,' said Clotilde, looking at her. 'What a very extraordinary person you are. What sort of a woman are you? Why are you talking like this? Who are you?' Miss Marple pulled down the mass of pink wool that encircled her head, a pink wool scarf of the same kind that she had once worn in the West Indies. 'One of my names,' she said, 'is Nemesis.' 'Nemesis? And what does that mean?' 'I think you know,' said Miss Marple. 'You are a very well educated woman. Nemesis is long delayed sometimes, but it comes in the end.
Are Americans afraid to face the reality that there is a significant portion of this world's population that hates America, hates what freedom represents, hates the fact that we fight for freedom worldwide, hates our prosperity, hates our way of life? Have we been unwilling to face that very difficult reality?
One who hates is a man holding a magnifying-glass, and when he hates someone, he knows precisely that person's surface, from the soles of his feet all the way up to each hair on the hated head.
One who hates is a man holding a magnifying-glass, and when he hates someone, he knows precisely that person's surface, from the soles of his feet all the way up to each hair on the hated head
There is only one person an English girl hates more than she hates her elder sister; and that is her mother.
And now, at last, gaiaphage and Nemesis stood facing each other. “Why didn’t you just . . . fade?” Gaia demanded plaintively. “You hit me,” Nemesis said. It was a little boy’s voice coming from Caine’s mouth. “And that’s not okay.
Outside the arch, always there seemed another arch. And beyond the remotest echo, a silence.
I actually no longer use 'art' as the framing device. I think I'm just kind of practicing things, practicing life, practicing creation.
Dark accurate plunger down the successive knell Of arch on arch, where ogives burst a red Reverberance of hail upon the dead Thunder like an exploding crucible!
There's only really one way to be at the top, and that's practicing - practicing well and practicing hard. And enjoying what you do, because if you don't enjoy it then, it's always tough to wake up and go practice and suffer on the court.
I have been practicing archery for a long time; a bow and arrow helps me to unwind.
A person who loves and kisses a tree is a normal person; a person who hates and cuts a tree is an abnormal person.
Hate and love are essentially the same in that the person who loves is as easily manipulated as a person who hates
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