Voicemails Wording Examples

Greetings Sister.

When I've known the woman was already
Italy and of stocky build strong and healthy
and more work that I would say that sailors have
then, because she was fat, when Madonna was sweating!

Two animals in the barn and a chorus of chickens
which pull the neck to make us feel good
for us to celebrate Italy has invented
wonderful stories, who knows how he was doing!

If the port around Italy pink jersey
rode behind in a car seat because it was respectful to her and half
among us brothers
not just Mameli, but quite nice

We went out to dinner and she ate everything
then you could see yourself in the pot with a full belly
then shooting her was a rose
bell'inchino, Italy, and then we danced

silent and fascinated by the rhythm of his steps
danced really well, how often are the grease in the swing
Italy undertook
seemed puffed and waterfalls .... but relieved

When I met villagers were
stank of poverty and had strange ways
with that big voice and strong a thunder of laughter
alive and more happy because

survived the war and postwar period and after that war
-natured whore and a nun in habit
master of cunning and a bit 'turncoat but
compared to other, more tender and human

His eyes were burning and a nice gesture
prominent breasts and a family air
body is very clumsy and a bit oversized
barely held together with stitches

yet still beautiful , magnetic, attractive
a shameless beauty, sometimes inconvenient
willing and well prepared to vices of pleasure
Italy do not deny it could also enjoy

With the passing of years we have lost sight of
wrote them many times but without Reply
never told me that he had put in some laps and was accompanied by strange
with thieves and scoundrels

then yesterday I met her in a supermarket with
Italy Cart
frozen department lost so much weight that I felt another
rebuilt cheekbones and short fringe

I wanted to say that I
nostalgia the days when I enjoyed his company
words that are beautiful, very seductive and
though distant relative of his was still

She looked at me as you look at the children
asked me if I knew where they were puzzled seeing breadsticks
shooting hath been turned
and in less than no time Italy gone

Italy, old love, you lost the joy
and perhaps have forgotten the old courtesy
yes, I admit, there are still bad
what the heck! You could at least it feels good!

But despite everything I still love you
something of myself still belongs to you
you like the bitch and make me despair
but I know that someday I'll see you dancing

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Plutarch: King Leonidas of Sparta Closed

frame from the movie "300"

"When Leonida left to face the Persians at Thermopylae, his wife Gorgo asked him if he had recommended to her, replied:" She married a good man and gives birth to good children. "

ephors When pointed out that he brought with him ... him a few men at Thermopylae, he replied: "Even too much for the work that awaits us." The

ephors also asked: "What are your plans? Do you want to stand in the way the Barbarians? ". He said: "The only What's certain that we will die for the Greeks. "

at Thermopylae, he said to his men: "They say that the barbarians are coming and that we are wasting our time. Will: But now let us keep or kill them or ready to die. " One asked, "Leonidas, you've come with so few men to fight against an army?". And he answered: "If you think that is the number that counts, then even the whole of Greece would be enough, because it is small in comparison to their mass. If, however, has the courage, then even these few men are sufficient "(Plutarch)

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dell'Apologia Socrates

Antonio Canova, Apology of Socrates in the courts. (detail), Venice, private collection.

is why the voice of god and I was not banned because I, against my accusers, against those who have condemned me, I have no hard feelings, though they have me charged and convicted with no this intention, but to hurt me: in this are to blame. But I want them to pray for one thing: when my children are grown up, punish them, citizens, stategli behind as I was with you, if you will see that are more concerned with wealth or other material goods of virtue, and if you think they are worth something then nothing without Valer, rimproverateli, as I am reproached you, for what they do not care and, instead, should take care, if they believe to be " great men "and then they are nothing. If you do this, me and my children we have had from you what is right. But it has come, now, time to go, I die, you live. Those of us who go to a better fate, no one knows, except God

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Cecilia Ahern: When it breaks my heart

If a plate or a glass fall to the ground I heard a noise loud. The same happens if a window slams, if you break the leg of a table or a painting off the wall. But the heart when it breaks, it does so in absolute silence. Given its importance, you would think that makes a noise louder than the world, or even producing a sort of ceremonious sound like the echo of a cymbal or the ringing of a bell. Instead, it is quiet, and you eventually desire a sound that distract you from pain.

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feeling of the period.

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my moleskine. The Rose Ele

" But then danced along the street light as a feather, and I Trudging them below as I have done my whole life with people who interest me because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, those who never make mistakes or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue center of the outbreak, and all are "Ooohhh" "

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Luigi Pirandello by "exclusivity"

Monica Bellucci

A any honest woman, that was not bad, it could easily happen with a strange insistence of being watched by someone, and if suddenly seized, agitation, if prevented by their own beauty, pleased. Now to any honest woman, the secret of his own conscience, would have seemed to commit sin in that moment of confusion or complacency, stroking with the thought that desire aroused by imagining a fleeting spark another life, another love ... Then he recalled the sight of things around, he would rework the conscience of your country, of their duties, and all ended there ... Moments! He did not feel perhaps everyone moves within, often, strange thoughts, as flashes of madness, thoughts inconsequential, unmentionable, emerged as a core different from what we normally recognize? Then those flashes go off, and returns the shadow dull light or calm as usual.

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Paulo Coelho " build or plant "

Every human being, in the course of its existence, it can take two attitudes: to build or plant . Manufacturers may spend years engaged in their task, but sooner or later claim that they were doing. Then they stop, and remain there, limited by their own walls. When construction is finished, life loses meaning. Those who plant suffer with storms and seasons, rarely rest. But, unlike a building, the garden never stops growing. It requires the attention of the gardener, but at the same time, allows him to live like a great adventure. (From "Brida")

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Mauro Corona from" Drops of resin "

The resin is the product of pain, tears leaking from the tree wounded. Drops golden yellow like honey, do not run away, do not run away like water, do not leave the tree. Remain glued to his torso to keep him company, to help him to resist, to grow. Memories are drops of resin that flow from the wounds of life. Even the most beautiful bites become sad because over time they have already been irretrievably, gone, lost forever.

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Gabriele D'Annunzio: Stay

Stay! Rested next to me. Do not you n 'go.
I will watch you. I'll protect you.
anything but you will regret for coming to me,
freely, proudly. I love you.
I have no thought that is not yours;
I do not have any desire for blood is not for you.
You know. I do not see in my other life companion,
I see no other joy ... Stay. Rest.
Nom afraid of anything. Sleep tonight on my heart ...

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Hermann Hesse Eleanor

  The autumn evenings remind me of you. 
 The forests lie dark, the day fades 
 edges of packages in red halo. 
 In a cottage near a crying baby. 
 The wind goes through the steps later 
 trunks to collect the last leaves. 
 
 Then salt, which is long accustomed to the murky eyes, the stranger 
 
 lonely crescent moon with its half-light of unknown lands. If 
 it is cold, indifferent to his path. 
 The light envelops the woods, the reeds, the pond and the path 
 with pale halo melancholy. 
 Even in winter nights when the windows without light 
 swirl of flakes 
 dances and tempestuous wind, I often have the impression of watching you. The plan 
 sings powerfully misleading 
 and your deep and dark contralto voice 
 speaks to my heart. You, the cruellest of beautiful women. 
 
 My hand grabs at times 
 the lamp and its light lay soft on the wide wall. From ancient 
 frame your picture looks dark 
 knows me well and smiles at me strangely. 
 But I kiss the hands and hair and whispering 
 your name. 
  

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Valeria Serra, from" The words of the sea "

And the sea was for me, and still is, the most seductive promise and white page. The page is not yet written, the dream not yet realized, the desire not yet extinguished, the flight may not yet completed, the absence that suggests the presence, the beginning without end. In its brightening and boundless in its unexplored depths becomes easy and almost inevitable to find a living metaphor for his restlessness, the instinct of freedom, fears and all'inesplorata deep region of the soul.

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John Pastorino magazine" The Seed "

If I had to choose a plastic image of altruism, I would choose a source. If I had to pick one for selfishness choose a chasm. The hole does the opposite of the source: instead of giving it swallows water. You greedy, greedy, never satisfied: his desire to "take" has no boundaries. But if poverty lack many things, avarice all missing. Nothing, however, is more generous and richest source. Your generosity makes it always industrious, cheerful, joyous. So is altruism. More gives and receives more, in a fruitful exchange and rich, that has not stopped or boundaries.

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Category: Image CUL Friday. Other

... yes, it is Dr. House.

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Emily Dickinson: Loneliness

has a solitude of space, the sea

loneliness and solitude, death - all these are yet

crowd in comparison to that deepest point, secrecy
polar
that is a soul in sight of itself:
infinity over.

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Dante: Ah, Violetta, who in the shade of Love

Ah, Violetta, in that shadow of love in my eyes so now
equipment,
piety of the heart that thou hast feristi,
who hopes in you and desiring more.

You, Violet, in a more than human,
mettesti fire inside in my mind I saw
with your pleasure, then
act of burning spirit
didst hope that in the part where I sound
I laugh at you.
Ah, do not watch because I trust her, but
he lifted his eyes to the great desire that burns,
than a thousand women already late to be
sentiron pain of another's pain.

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Dante: Guido, i 'I wish you and I and Lapo

Guido, i 'I wish you and Lapo and I
we were taken to spell, and put in a
vasel That for every wind
want to go to sea you and me.

ensure that luck or other cruel time
there could not give ground,
indeed, always living in a talent, to come together to grow
's desire.

E Monna Vanna and Monna Lagia
then with that which is the number of the thirty
would put us in good charmer:

and there discourse of love always,
and each of them was happy, yes
such as' I think we would.

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Federico Garcia Lorca: could browse my hands

could browse my hands
Speech
your name in the dark nights, when things

the stars from the moon to drink and sleep the branches

hidden spots . And I feel empty

music and passion.
clock that sounds crazy
old dead hours.

Speech
your name in this dark night, and your name

resonates farther than ever before.
Farther
all the stars and most painful of the sweet rain.


will love, as then, sometimes? What fault has never
my heart?
If the fog disappears,
new passion which awaits me?
will be peaceful and pure?
could browse my hands
the moon!

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Federico Garcia Lorca: Shell

brought me from a shell. Inside the


sings a sea map. The heart

me fills with water with minnows

shadow and silver.
brought me from a shell.

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Being a woman

Being she is so fascinating. It is an adventure that requires courage, a challenge that does not get bored. You'll have plenty to do if birth women. To begin with, you will have to beat to claim that if God exists could also be an old white-haired and pretty. Then you have to beat to explain that sin was not born on the day when Eve plucked the apple that day born under a beautiful call disobedience. Finally you have to beat to show that inside your body smooth and round there is an intelligence that asks to be heard. (Oriana Fallaci)

Some years ago, following the advice of a young friend, I read a book with passion and involvement the 'Interview with a Child Never Born, "from which I draw the idea for this is that the traditional" day of women. " It is true, in fact, that for centuries - and in some ways even today - being a woman has been a challenge in which many, unfortunately, give up badly, assimilating the thoughts and behaviors in males, losing identity inner made of original values, personal gifts, sensitivity and finesse.

Flipping in recent days, the Internet sites in search of aphorisms and quotations, proverbs and collections, both on the woman I was shocked to discover the huge amount of female characters who have left indelible marks in each field along the arduous path of human civilization, both in front of the huge mass of irony, sarcasm issued and insults in history - even by authors famous and revered - against women. As is now often negative as the constant enhancement of their beauty, but as a simple view of physical adornment, destined to become trade in television commercials alongside other luxury items. In my very brief comment I will not dwell on the sordid controversy justice policies of our day because I do not think they are in any way indicate the status of women, I would rather speak in favor of the woman and her specific identity other than that of men, that women's diversity in our time has been systematically trampled upon, because to succeed in the world must adapt to male stereotypes. Being a woman in an authentic way means, however, retain some human capabilities that men often repress or ignore, such as sensitivity, consistency, freedom of intuition, feelings of generosity, compassion, 'the intellect of love " (in the words of Dante), tenderness and so on. Identical to men as individuals, women have their own originality by not fade or settle, but to keep with courage and testify.

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"Either you or your furry little animal," said Denise. In reality, he said, "Qu'est-ce que je vais faire de mon petit chat" But I knew what he meant.

The cat had hated me from the start. Denise's bed was made up of two networks and two mattresses side by side. The creature, the size of a small panther, she used to burst from the central space as back from the depths of hell to scratch and bite me. Of course all this ferocity was reserved exclusively to me. Denise, who called the creature "mon bébé", "mon amour" or, with all deference to the French propensity to invade the animal the British territory, Guillaume, slept peacefully in spite of his appalling animal and insisted to give my wounds to my clumsiness. I stayed with it only for its exceptional escalope à la crème and its amazing erotic savoir-faire.

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WOMEN'S DAY


to you today a huge bouquet of mimosa, a poignant thought and pride of having a daughter like you, women of 400 (as you called it the brothers) to set moral and full of femininity, and strong sensitive.

with you and your best wishes to my young friends, who with strength and a smile face heart problems, of children, work and you always have in their thinking.

Greetings to my more mature friends who know the irony
daily struggle to defend their choices, which are always available and are divided among parents, husbands and children, they always find the right word for those who are 'a bit' down.

Wishing you all now that someone tell them Simply ... thank

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that Horatio Caine!


Do you know when the party scene in CSI boring?

one where the characters look at the seven million hair found at the crime scene, looking for differences between the stripes on the bullets or consult the database for hours and hours?

I refer to CSI Miami because that is the only I've seen.

You know, it's the ugliest, but my boyfriend is the only person in the world who likes Orazzo Chein and since they are very good, I agreed to watch it with him.

I digress, back to boring scenes.

The only way I found the writers to make them tolerable, was to place ourselves under the powerful music and mega Truzzi to make it look exciting and heroic slip a piece of three millimeters of fabric inside a tube.

I found that works well with others.

colors of the table I'm a PC, and it is a job that makes you feel like a baboon at the telescoping cylinder in Formina the round hole and the cube into the square hole, but if you play something truzzissimo, suddenly everything becomes more tolerable.

Something like this:

also works with you?

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my moleskine.

- All women want to sleep on the shoulder of a man. All of them!

- Yes, yes, I do not say no, but if a man drinks a few glasses of Russian and unfortunately I have a musical ear. "

The Amelie.

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I Had a Dream - playing Monopoly with the Premier

I had a strange dream the other night.
I had become - it is not clear how - Prime Minister of Italy. I was at the table to play Monopoly with some old favorites and some new friends bought that morning at the market. I was bored.
"Guys, let's change the rules again," I said, down from and then the chair cushions. Before reaching land, however, I ran into Mary Star who was on all fours in rooting between the bodies of anesthetized sciacquette stretched under the table.
"What are you looking, Cessetta, a new brain? If you allow me, I'd say no ... "
" I dropped the Chance card that gave me the right to a free degree and a lot of money, and I can not ... to ... "he moaned.
Fosse was young and a minimum fine, I would have given ten degrees and mountains of money from the bank in exchange for the rights of passage as a narrow alley, but life is too short to waste time behind women like Mary Star - and if he Lane really for sale, you could bet that it is far from the Strait. Actually, I did not remember because I had not even invited to play with us. The cry was becoming hysterical, and so would have spoiled the evening.
"You can not give her a card for your quiet?" Asked Julian Fat Fat, wetting the board with a mixture of fat burgers and drooling. "He's passing the appetite."
"Yes, fuck, put something in the mouth of a bitch," shouted Victor. "Porco god, I'm trying to escape the luxury tax here and 'fucking bitch is distracting me."
Exasperated, I looked in the cards Contingencies in my pocket. "Here, bitch, I'll give you this. But I have to do a favor: I need someone to drop me a dog for a moment. I can not concentrate on the tissue when it tries to lick your butt every two seconds. "
Sobbing, she read aloud from the paper that I had brought:" Get out of jail free ... ... if we are ... ... that cardboard can save up to ... time of need ... ... (do not know ... ever! ...) or sell it ... "He was silent for a moment, then smiled. "I know that I sell. I have a friend in Reggio Calabria, which would pay the gold. "
" Do what you like, "I said, "But now faith leads a walk around the country. You do not need the scoop, people are accustomed to living with his crap. We have more important things to think about. "
resume play.