Kids chase the love that eludes them.
I often find that I rock back and forth with a beat in my head constantly. If i stop rocking, it usually means I've hit a snag in my writing.
Remember me for these days, not the old ones.
How do people choose their final words? Do they realize their gravity? Are they fated to be wise?
Scenery without solace is meaningless.
We do not realize the sound the world makes -- unless, of course, it comes to a stop. Then, when it starts, it sounds like an orchestra.