If you own a rug you own too much.
We tiptoed around each other like heartbreaking new friends.
Books, shmooks, this sickness has got me wishing if I can ever get out of this I'll gladly become a millworker and shut my big mouth.
Swinging on delicate hinges the autumn leaf almost off the stem.
It all ends in tears anyway.
Believe in the holy contour of life.