Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.
I'd rather have a full bottle in front of me than a full frontal lobotomy.
Be free, and live life fully.
Ah, lust. It makes us forget anything we want to. The greatest relaxant, the greatest stimulant.
One of the few times in a man's life when he is not full of shit!!The morning of a colonoscopy. Enough said!
Again, I am surprised why people seek to eliminate lust and cling to love; as they wish to ignore happiness and cleave unto joy! Now, now, let's not sugar-coat things! Lust has a lot more to do with life and what is the good of life if you do not carry much lust inside of you at all times? And joy is a noble thing, but happiness though fleeting can be found every day and in every small little way!
All I have learned in life really just boils down to this: there is only one difference between the so-called wise and the so-called foolish...and between those who are truly happy and those who are not. Those who are wise - and those who are happy - embrace and appreciate life. Those who are unhappy and unwise do not. That is all; that is the only difference.
Rather be true friend to one and known by none, than known by many but have no true friends in any
I intend to live forever. Or at the least die trying.
If I were to live for tomorrow, I would have lived fullest for today.
Write it as a dream, read it as a goal.
There is no time frame on living life, only the frame we place about ourselves to hinder our lives from living to its fullest.
Riza: Without his Alchemy he's just...Jean: A little brat who swears a lotMaes: An arrogant pipsqueakRoy: Useless. Just uselessAlphonse: Sorry big brother, I don't know how to add to that...Ed *starts to cry*: YOU'RE ALL PICKING ON ME!!!
It's my birthday, by the way, and as of 2:05 this morning (the time of my birth in the middle of a snow storm on the Fort Dix army base in New Jersey) I'm 52 years old. I decided to say that because there's such in our culture for women...well, for everybody...to stay perpetually young. And that's never going to change if we (women especially) don't embrace, enjoy, and take pride in each and every age that we pass through. I'm not young, I'm half a century old, and grateful to have made it this far. And I have this to say to the young women coming on behind me: 52 feels pretty damn good!
I once laughed at the vanity of women of thirty or forty who whitened their ruddy old skin with lead, but now I know such salves are not disguises for old crones who wish to catch a young husband. Instead they are only a mask we wear so that we can, for a little while, still recognize ourselves.
Times like this were special. Memory builders. When something extraordinary happened to a person the kind of things remembered forever after it didn't have to be a life-changing event like a graduation or marriage or birth of a child. It more often was the small things. The sheer joy of summer sunlight on a fragrant flower. The giggle of a toddler. The brush of a lover's fingertips. And the person marks the moment with the flashing insight thinking... This is special. I should remember this
He supposed that even in Hell, people got an occasional sip of water, if only so they could appreciate the full horror of unrequited thirst when it set in again.
You don't stop laughing when you grow old, you grow old when you stop laughing.
Sometimes the only thing to do is to take the thing that you must have. Even if someone gets hurt.
Twas something else. I had come to hate her, you see. I had come to wish her dead, and that was what held me back.
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