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“Until you make peace with who you are, you will never be content with what you have.”
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
True, we love life, not because we are used to living, but because we are used to loving. There is always some madness in love, but there is also always some reason in madness.
Two girls discover the secret of life in a sudden line of poetry.
I've been drunk for about a week now, and I thought it might sober me up to sit in a library.
Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.
“Until you make peace with who you are, you will never be content with what you have.”
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
True, we love life, not because we are used to living, but because we are used to loving. There is always some madness in love, but there is also always some reason in madness.
Two girls discover the secret of life in a sudden line of poetry.
I've been drunk for about a week now, and I thought it might sober me up to sit in a library.
Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.