Millay What Lips Quotes & Sayings

I'm not saying that anybody should like me. Give me a chance before you form that opinion. — Shannen Doherty

When you realize you want to invest the rest of your lifestyle with somebody, you want the rest of your life to commence as quickly as achievable. — Billy Crystal

If you find yourself caring for a relative with dementia, the chances are you'll need help. — Phyllis Logan

We need American sources of resources, we need American energy, brought to you by American ingenuity and produced by American workers. — Sarah Palin

I never wanted to be the guy people looked at. I don't think of myself as being a celebrity; it's too mortifying. — Johnny Depp

When you blame yourself, you learn from it. If you blame someone else, you don't learn nothing, cause hey, it's not your fault, it's his fault, over there. — Joe Strummer

When a movie star sits and talks to you, it's almost always, and only, because she's promoting something. — Rich Cohen

You want promises of success, assurances that all will be well? I don't do that. Ask your amah here. That's why I'm the real deal. — Yangsze Choo

Men always love what is good or what they find good; it is in judging what is good that they go wrong. — Jean-Baptiste Rousseau

We are that tree, he said, then rode ahead ...
It was twisted and small but green, growing sideways in defiance of gravity. It lived where nothing had any business thriving.
Lana did not know whether her father meant the two of them or all of Wallachia. In her mind, the two had become indistinguishable. We are that tree, she thought..We defy death, to grow. — Kiersten White

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning, but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more. — Edna St. Vincent Millay