Mane Quotes

“Your names and your photos give you a unique identity. Make and maintain a good name in the hearts of people. Paint good photos in their minds.”
― Israelmore Ayivor, The Great Hand Book of Quotes

“The happiest field in all the harvest is the field of sunflowers at their peak. Drinking the rays and dancing in the breeze. The saddest field is the same field, six weeks later. Drunk on the sun and burnt with shame, they drop their heads to hide their mane.”
― R.S. Barrington

“Make a good gallery! Your names and your photos give you a unique identity. Make and maintain a good name in the hearts of people. Paint good photos in their minds.”
― Israelmore Ayivor, The Great Hand Book of Quotes

“Kada primjetiš da ti se ljudi dive, budi ubijeđen da se dive ljepoti koju je Allah pokazao u tebi, ali i da ne znaju ružnoću koju je Allah skrio u tebi; zato se zahvaljuj Allahu a ne ljudima.”
― Hajrudin Ahmetović

“Prvi uslov da vas neko i zavoli, to je svakako da mu diskretno najpre prikrijete vaše najbolje odlike; i to bar za onoliko za koliko oprezno prikrivate vaše mane. Treba naročito prikrivati svoju superiornost iz delikatnosti prema nedostacima drugih.
Naročito treba zapamtiti da niko ne voli da se divi drugome većma nego sebi.”
― Jovan Dučić, Jutra sa Leutara

“Ničija mahana nije moja i tvoja vrlina, ničija! Kad bi svi bili crni, to ne znači da smo ti i ja bijeli.”
― Kenan Musić, U susret Resulullahu, posljednjem Božijem Poslaniku

“Do not contemplate you as the man of my head rather I do not contemplate you as the mane of my hair”
― P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

“Water streamed from Anne’s skirt and the unicorn’s mane, flicked like sparks from her horn.
“You must go,” Anne said.
The unicorn didn’t move.
“What is it you want of me?” Anne hardly recognized her own voice. She was soaked and shivering.
As if she’d been waiting for the question, the unicorn stepped forward. The horn came to a point like a lance without a coronel. Jonquil shied back. Anne slid down from the saddle.
The unicorn laid her neck lightly across Anne’s shoulder. She smelled like wild animal and unfamiliar flowers and even, a little, of the sea.
“What do you want of me?” Anne asked again, very softly now.
The unicorn lowered her head so that the mass of her mane filled Anne’s fingers. After a bewildered moment, Anne got out her belt-knife and cut a long, thick lock of it. The unicorn didn’t move. The hair lay sparkling in her palm. She sheathed her knife, reached to touch the horn. She expected it to be cold, but it was silky and warm.”
― Katherine Arden, The Unicorn Hunters