A Quote by Giovannino Guareschi
No, Don Camillo; you didn't exactly steal it. Peppone had two cigars in his pocket. Peppone is a Communist. He believes in sharing things. By skillfully relieving him of one cigar, you only took your fair share.
Related Quotes
I pledged myself to smoke but one cigar a day. I kept the cigar waiting until bedtime, then I had a luxurious time with it. But desire persecuted me every day and all day long. I found myself hunting for larger cigars...within the month my cigar had grown to such proportions I could have used it as a crutch.
I did the cover of Cigar Aficionado, so I'm supposed to talk about loving cigars. I've smoked them a couple of times. My father used to smoke cigars. I love the idea and the concept, and I love the smell of cigars.
I did the cover of Cigar Aficionado, so I'm supposed to talk about loving cigars. I've smoked them a couple of times. My father used to smoke cigars. I love the idea and the concept, and I love the smell of cigars
No one can tell me what is a good cigar - for me. I am the only judge. People who claim to know say that I smoke the worst cigars in the world. They bring their own cigars when they come to my house.
It is at a fair that man can be drunk forever on liquor, love, or fights; at a fair that your front pocket can be picked by a trotting horse looking for sugar, and your hind pocket by a thief looking for his fortune.
A cigar makers organization once said that I was the most famous cigar smoker in the world. I dont know if thats true, but once while visiting Havana, I went to a cigar factory. There were four hundred people there rolling cigars, and when they saw me, they all stood up and applauded.
I smoke really good cigars, I don't smoke Cuban cigars. I would never do anything as Un-American as smoke a decent cigar.
Whenever one refuses to admit such a self-evident truth, for instance, as that it is wrong to steal, don't argue with him-search him; the reason may be found in his pocket.
Lagrange, in one of the later years of his life, imagined that he had overcome the difficulty (of the parallel axiom). He went so far as to write a paper, which he took with him to the Institute, and began to read it. But in the first paragraph something struck him that he had not observed: he muttered: 'Il faut que j'y songe encore', and put the paper in his pocket.' [I must think about it again]
There are a lot of things a person with two hands couldn't steal," Eddis said. "So?" "If it's impossible to steal them with two hands, it's no more impossible to steal them with one. Steal peace, Eugenides. Steal me some time.
Cuban cigars are an acquired taste, like Scotch whisky. If you're not used to them, you'll get a headache, you'll find them much too strong. But to a cigar connoisseur, a longtime smoker, if you have a well-made, well-aged one, there is nothing like a Cuban cigar. Getting them is the ultimate mission; any cigar lover would do anything
So much of teaching is sharing. Learning results in sharing, sharing results in change, change is learning. The only other job with so much sharing is parenting. That's probably why the two are so often confused. You can't test what sort of teacher someone will be, because testing what someone knows isn't the same as what someone is able to share.
What exactly is your 'fair share' of what 'someone else' has worked for?
If a person wants to be of any use to himself, he better insist on getting his fair share of beauty and pleasure, and if there's something about the system that's keeping him from getting his share, then I think he's well within his rights to fight to change that.
Phrases like Worship Service or Service of Worship are tautologies. To worship God means to serve him. Basically there are two ways to do it. One way is to do things for Him that He needs to have done - run errands for Him, carry messages for Him, fight on His side, feed His lambs, and so on. The other way is to do things for Him that you need to do - sing songs for Him, tell Him what's on your mind and in your heart, in general rejoice in Him.
Heat flushed Chauncey's neck; it took all his energy to curl his hands into two weak fists. He laughed at himself, but there was no humor. He had no idea how, but the boy was inflicting the nausea and weakness inside him. It would not lift until he took the oath. He would say what he had to, but he swore in his heart he would destroy the boy for this humiliation.
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