Some people say you pick up the Dirty Boogie where you left it off. Others say you pick it up where you would have been had you never gotten off it.
It is singularity which often makes the worst part of our suffering, as it always does of our conduct.
He wanted to leave the past a few hundred miles down the road, shake it off like dust. But that ws the problem with the past. It kept finding him.
We are treated different because we want to be treated different.
Cómo está Marta, preguntará él, Cansada, pero bien, responderé yo, y estas palabras también las andamos diciendo constantemente, no me extrañaría nada que cuando transitemos de este mundo hacia el otro todavía consigamos encontrar fuerzas para responder a alguien que se le ocurra la imbécil idea de preguntarnos cómo nos sentimos, Muriendo, pero bien, es lo que diremos.
I long ago came to the conclusion that all life is 6 to 5 against.
Destiny, she’d learned, was written in the heavens; a person couldn’t take what the universe didn’t wish to give.
Absent a sense of the preciousness of one's own life, why respect the life of anyone else?
A parents wishes for their children shouldn't be to be as good as them but to surpass their own abilities and hopefully lead to a better world.
The way you separate Reality from Imagination is the number of bandages you have to use.
أن ماهو متوقع من الحياة ليس في واقع الامر هو موضع الاهمية ، بل أن ما يعنينا هو ما الذي تتوقعه الحياة منا
The best self help book I've ever read was, The little Engine that Could.
الحياة تعلمنا أفضل وأصعب دروسها فى اللحظة التى نطمأن فيها الى اننا تعلمنا كل شيء
Pelit itu payah! Hemat itu jenius!
Tennis taught me to take chances, to take life as it comes. To hit every ball that comes to me no matter how hard it looks, to give it my best shot.
in earth their have only one reason of war,i have power and want to show,
In the beginning the Poets and Philosophers taught the world to see. Then after that any form of education was no longer free.
Alone with my wine and my misery, I was convinced that life was composed of a string of “if only’s” leading from one self-inflicted bungle to the next until at some point, one’s final iteration of the excuse became one’s final utterance, and one expired.
He who forgets the past is doomed to repeat it.
Learning was a by-product of her search for pleasure
