Life' wrote a friend of mine, 'is a public performance on the violin, in which you must learn the instrument as you go along.
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Happiness is the china shop; love is the bull.
Life is a journey. Time is a river. The door is ajar
People say that eyes are windows to the soul.
She's the kind of girl who climbed the ladder of success wrong by wrong.
Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.
I'm a little pencil in the hand of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world.
The nail that sticks out farthest gets hammered the hardest.
I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe.
Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act.
Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.
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