Then at the top of the hill, the road forks. Which just figures. "You gotta be kidding." I say. One part of the road goes left, the other goes right. (Well, it's a "Fork" ain't it?)
How do you know yer alive if you don't hurt?
Don't deceive me. Never leave me.
Francia don’t look too convinced. I never seen arms so crossed.
We all fall but that's not what matters. What matters is picking yourself up again.
Life ain't fair. It ain't. Not never.