Is love supposed to last throughout all time, or is it like trains changing at random stops. If I loved her, how could I leave her? If I felt that way then, how come I don't feel anything now?
Where so many hours have been spent in convincing myself that I am right, is there not some reason to fear I may be wrong?
I don't like composers who think. It gets in the way of their plagiarism.
The freethinking of one age is the common sense of the next.
My home is not a place, it is people.
Let not the sands of time get in your lunch.
Laughing is the sensation of feeling good all over and showing it principally in one spot.