Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Privet. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Privet Quotes And Sayings by 91 Authors including Junot Diaz,George Santayana,George Herbert,Gore Vidal,Bradford Morrow for you to enjoy and share.
Porfirio Rubirosa.
It is easier to make a saint out of a libertine than out of a prig.
Perversnes makes one squint ey'd.
That's why Priscus is wisest of all: silence cannot be judged. Silence masks all things or no thing. Only Priscus can tell us what his silence conceals, but since he won't, we suspect him great.
Melissa Pritchard is a treasure.
Tell me, Peppone, what other talents do you have besides erasing undesirables?"
"I enjoy a fair bit of sneaking, sir. I also enjoy pilfering and killing as a professional courtesy."
"What a delightfully horrid urchin you are."
"Thank you, sir.
When we'd started working together, I'd assumed it would be a question of putting up with Pritkin; then suddenly the stupid hair was making me smile, and the sporadic heroics were making my heart jump and the constant bitching had me wanting to kiss him quiet.
He was an enigma, John Pritkin: a mad scientist with gun calluses and old scars and even more secrets than me.
Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback
I think Pringles initial intention was to make tennis balls. But on the day that the rubber was supposed to show up, a big truckload of potatoes arrived. But Pringles is a laid back company. They said, "Screw it. Cut 'em up!"
Don't pe in te urry - don't. Will you pe take de odder pottle, or ave you pe got zober yet and come to your zenzes?
Why doesn't Prin go and get her own goddamn blistering bloody shitty jelly doughnuts?
Conceited little mega-puppy.
If I'm gonna get my balls blown off for a word, my word is poontang.
... Pfiffikus, whose vulgarity made Rosa Hubermann look like a wordsmith and a saint.
His Tender Roni.
Remember that I wrote a pavane for a dead princess, and not a dead pavane for a princess!
Pustular berk with the charisma of a plimsole
Hello kerplunk, this is my dear friend pitter patter.
soothing: re-press of an old French recording of Ida Presti, possibly the greatest guitarist who ever lived, and her husband Alexandre Lagoya, pairing on Debussy's "Clair de Lune.
Gervasio Lonquimay
porcini-asparagus
The white tiger will always be your protector, Kelsey. Good-bye priyatama.
I liked Pritkin loud and bitching, in other words, his normal state. I didn't like it when he got quiet.
The thing about Proust is his combination of the utmost sensibility with the utmost tenacity. He searches out these butterfly shades to the last grain. He is as tough as catgut and as evanescent as a butterfly's bloom.
She [Pansy] pushed in next to Poppy so that she could see him around the guard's elbow. She was as tall as Poppy, with shining dark-brown hair and blue eyes. An utterly lovely girl, as all the princesses were, yet Oliver thought Petunia was far more beautiful.
Besyn larveth'is!
Not fooling around, not bothering nobody, just sitting here mending the Primus," said the cat with a hostile frown, "and, moreover, I consider it my duty to warn you that the cat is an ancient, inviolable animal.
I am a tarsier and a tarsier's son, the grandson and great-grandson of tarsiers, a tiny creature, made up of two pupils and whatever simply could not be left out ...
[About Poirot] The flamboyant moustaches, the sartorial elegance, the white spats and the pointed patent leather shoes all filled this insular young man with distinct misgivings.
corn maque choux. He
Gilderoy Lockhart
GILDEROY LOCKHART T
Nature has embellish'd rare as May
Its dew-gemm'd primroses glitter'd up,
To show pride from each budding weed,
Since from skies naught a ray dismay.
I would've liked to have been Poussin, if I'd had a choice, in another time.
Me Tarz-tosterone; You Estro-Jane
Roberta Marieschi
Is it Rilla-my-Rilla?
One more thing. She wears Patchouli. Every tart in Montmartre wears it. Place Pigalle reeks of it. If she wants to carry out her pose as an aristocrat, she ought to refine her tastes.
Van Holtz, you bastard! You're doing this on purp ... on ... oh! That feels very nice. Do that again.
Camille Paglia is: 'the nipple-pierced person's Phyllis Schlafly who poses as a sexual renegade but is in fact the most dutiful of patriarchal daughters.
Poireaux vinaigrette aux grains de caviar."
I did a quick translation. "Leeks and fish eggs in vinegar?"
He grinned. "It sounds better in French."
Yeah, but did it taste better?
Layers like a bad Van Gogh. Pella felt little beads
The love of pelf increases with the pelf.
[Lat., Crescit amor nummi quantum ipsa pecunia crescit.]
I am Psmith," said the old Etonian reverently. "There is a preliminary P before the name. This, however, is silent. Like the tomb. Compare such words as ptarmigan, psalm, and phthisis.
My handsome, intelligent, inimitable, delightful, prickly, unlucky Alexei Pavlovich, by the power of imagination invested in me I'll make you who you are because I want to.
...Traduttore, traditore.
The transition from libertine to prig was so complete.
What the heck is this, a trivet?"
"I AM WAFFLE FACE!
She has more names than petticoats.
Does anyone remember the name of Paul Revere's horse?
Members of the Pravus Rule and the Vertas League are both welcome to bid on this capture, a female who will have tactical value against a common enemy.
I am a pupil of Pissarro.
Wer rastet, rostet - what rests, rusts.
Ut laeve is genne pannekook
He who would eat the kernel, must crack the shell.
[Lat., Qui e nuce nucleum esse vult, frangat nucem.]
Verranica, I will never leave you.
Your petal from the salty rose
Correct English is the slang of prigs ...
It's time to P-A-R-T-Why? Because I gotta!
waistcoat-pocket,
A miscreant with coiffed, scented hair, a slender waist, the hips of a woman and the chest of a Prussian officer, with a finely tied cravat, by all girls admired. ~ [introduction of character Montparnasse]
Well," Aureliano said. "Tell me what it is."
Pilar Ternera bit her lips with a sad smile.
"That you would be good in a war," she said. "Where you put your eye, you put your bullet.
Documentarian Laura Poitras has crafted a first-rate Hitchcockian-type thriller telling the story of Edward Snowden.
Voluit!
Petra Hermans
25 September 2016
Albert tin. Why're
Perry Johansson.
Mr. Pappadakis smells like Just for Men peroxide dye and eucalyptus foot unguents. He has a face like a catcher's mitt. The whole thing puckers inward, drooping with the memory of some dropped fly ball.
A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent
sweet, not lasting;
The perfume and suppliance of a minute;
No more.
Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn.
Platypus? I thought it was pronounced platymapus. Has it always been pronounced platypus?
UR-DIDACT: This being was not the Primordial I encountered on Charum Hakkor, but something else entirely - though it retained the Primordial's motives and thoughts and memories. It was a Gravemind - the Gravemind, more accurately. It was the Primordial's final act of revenge.
Robert E. Lee Prewitt. Isn't that a silly old name.
For my own part,' said Captain Aubrey, 'I have no notion of disliking a man for his beliefs, above all if he was born with them. I find I can get along very well with Jews or even ... ' The P of Papists was already formed, and the word was obliged to come out as Pindoos.
You never knew what to expect with Ingrid. One minute she could be sawing the locks off Pierpont's freezers; the next, providing shelter for the homeless birds of Switzerland.
I do believe that his given name is something odd. Peregrine, Penrose- Piers, that's it."
"He sounds like a dock." Lord Sundron put in.
"Mrs. Hutchins called me a light frigate this morning," Linnet said "a dock might be just the thing for me.
We were solitary and apart. Slept during the day, uncurled at dusk like evening primroses; fragrant and lush. We never wanted to conquer the world, only our fears. We didn't keep in touch. Somewhere, though, our memories had.
Pec-tacle?
You know, like spectacle but with more dude nipples.
This is Rilke. I wish I had written it for you.
psychologist Timothy
The motto was 'Pax', but the word was set in a circle of thorns.
You know, Maureen, I seem to have seen that name somewhere." "Home Perm, perhaps. He looks like a hairdresser." Poirot winced.
peccadillo. So far as my observation goes, men
April brings the primrose sweet, / Scatters daisies at our feet.
Richard Papen: As it happened, I knew Gartrell. He was a bad painter and a vicious gossip, with a vocabulary composed almost entirely of obscenities, gutteral verbs, and the world postmodernist.
pocket lizard licker.
Pyp had stabbed a turnip with his knife. "The night is dark and full of turnips," he announced in a solemn voice. "Let us all pray for venison, my children, with some onions and a bit of tasty gravy.
I have been asked whether I wish to nominate a successor, an inheritor, a dauphin or delfino. I have decided to name Christopher Hitchens.
I'll be Pavlov, you be the dog.
Przybilla can't guard me when I'm 27, 37 or 47.
Solitudinem faciunt pacem appellant. They make a wilderness and they call it peace.
I play Peeta. That's his name. It was given to him by his parents. He comes from a long line of bread. His sister is Rye. And his brother is Whole Wheat.
Piragua - cold syrup trickled over crushed ice - her favorite treat from her childhood in Viejo San Juan.
I am proud to wear the name Le Pen.
Oh, shiiiiiiit!"
"Is that really your name?" Pritkin demanded as we crawled up onto the shore some time later.
"Oh, shit?"
"It's more the story ofy life," I said miserably.
And then I passed out.
Whose is it, do you think?" I say finally.
"No telling," says Finnick. "Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?
Christophe, with the careful tone of an adult telling a kid not to pet the nice foaming-rabid pooch.
relaxed perseverance.
Mr. Pettifor, I've brought you lunch, Sir." "Leave it on my desk," he grouses. "It's your favorite, Sir, a Reuben with au jus," I say softly.
I wish to speak with Mr. Pembrooke, if