Enjoy the best quotes on Flavia , Explore, save & share top quotes on Flavia .
“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same”
Flavia Weedn“Some people come into our lives and leave footprints on our hearts and we are never ever the same.”
Flavia Weedn“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people move our souls to dance. They awaken us to a new understanding with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.”
Flavia Weedn“The press was ruthless, but then so was the church.Flavia de Luce”
Alan Bradley, Speaking from Among the Bones“There's a lot to be said for being alone. But you and I know, don't we, Flavia, that being alone and being lonely are not at all the same thing?”
Alan Bradley, The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag“In the world we live in, priests and bartenders have a lot in common.”
Flavia Biondi, La generazione“Someday, beyond the clouds and all the world's wrongs, there will be love, compassion and justice, and we shall all understand.”
Flavia Weedn, To Take Away the Hurt: Insights into Healing“Destiny, if I could sit across the porch from God, I'd thank Him for Lending me you.....”
Flavia Weedn, Across The Porch From God: Reflections Of Gratitude“I have no fear of the dead. Indeed in my own limited experience I have found them to produce in me a feeling that is quite the opposite of fear. A dead body is much more fascinating than a live one and I have learned that most corpses tell better stories. I’d had the good fortune of seeing several of them in my time.”
Alan Bradley, A Red Herring Without Mustard“Not to be too dramatic about it, that night I slept the sleep of the damned. I dreamt of turrets and craggy ledges where the windswept rain blew in from the ocean with the odor of violets. A pale woman in Elizabethan dress stood beside my bed and whispered in my ear that the bells would ring. An old salt in an oilcloth jacket sat atop a piling, mending nets with an awl, while far out at sea a tine aeroplane winged its way towards the setting sun.”
Alan Bradley