A mule laden with gold is welcome at every castle.
Every frog has his own pond.
Every one must row with the oars he has.
Every doctor thinks his pills are the best.
Every door may be shut but death's door.
In the eyes of its mother every turkey is a swan.
Every peddler praises his own needles.
Every wine would like to be port wine.
Every sandpiper praises his own swamp.
A golden key will open every lock.
All the luck in the world has to come every year, in every part of every year, or there is not a harvest and then the luck, the bad luck will come and everything we are, all that we can ever be, all the Einsteins and babies and love and hate, all the...
Let us call the world to come together – every child, every woman and every man. Let us draw a bigger picture, one that enters every home, every heart and brings together every voice. Let us listen to the helpless cries of the abused and neglected ...
And in that fraction of a second before anything actually happened, Santino Corleone knew he was a dead man.
A photograph is a moral decision taken in one eighth of a second.
In Hell... bad is good... and I am second only to the Devil.
After five seconds there was a click, and the entire Universe was there in the box with him.
I don't want to have to give up me, in order to be his.
The truth can do years of work in seconds.
A changeableness, too, as if beneath my visible face there was another, having second thoughts.
So basically,” Calvin said, “this is in a walk-up on West Twenty-Second Street with no music and no Julie Andrews.
It really sucks to come in second in your own life. It sucks even more to think that this is okay.
