I write in a small office at home.
But now, like a fallen sparrow On a golden chain, I'm forever bound in shadow, A prisoner to my pain.
Looks to me like you've been making garbage for a while and dragging it with you. Now you need to get out of here, and that garbage is weighing you down.
That's what's wrong with women. They want you to wait for them until they get ready and then they don't even tell you how they feel.
On the streets of the city They have taken my Who-I-Am As well as my What-I-Was And now I am desperate for them both Again
If you know you don't have a win, then there's no use for you being in the game.
I admired the work ethic of the cowboys I read about. The idea of these young people taking on this much responsibility was impressive. I would like modern readers to have an appreciation of this.
I am very much interested in getting parents to read to children, and trying to get people mentoring children. If I can do both I'll be happy.
I couldn't speak well. I went to speech therapy for 10 years. And I was sort of frustrated in that sense.
My life is not packaged, Not tidy. There are leftover strands and jagged Edges that cut even my friends.
What did I do? I walked into a drugstore to look for some mints, and then I walked out. What was wrong with that? I didn't kill Mr. Nesbitt.
Yes, she is the fruit that will Sustain me and yes, she brings A rain that I know can chill But it is a rain so sweet and sings A song my soul insists That I follow, if I would exist As more than I have ever, ever been If my mother calls it evil, then I embrace the sin
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