Muskaan Songs Quotes & Sayings

She may have had enough time to deal with things. What if she does come back? What will you do? Grant asked me.
What would I do?
I'd beg. — Abbi Glines

Good things are always coming; sometimes we just forget it. — Damien Echols

When I finish writing a rap verse. It's a lot like sex: You start off slow with ideas, like foreplay, and then you put your all into it. When you end it with the perfect thought, it's like that perfect last stroke. — Drake

Papa was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones.
Papa was an accordion!
But his bellows were all empty.
Nothing went in and nothing came out. — Markus Zusak

A Midsummer Night's Dream remains an enchanting work after four hundred years, but few would argue that it cuts to the very heart of human behaviour. What it does do is take, and give, a positive satisfaction in the joyous possibilities of verbal expression. — Bill Bryson

Wicked people will on the day of judgment see all there is to see of Jesus Christ, except His beauty and loveliness — Jonathan Edwards

Mining is the art of exploiting mineral deposits at a profit. An unprofitable mine is fit only for the sepulcher of a dead mule. — T.A. Rickard

And Wigan Athletic are certain to be promoted barring a mathmatical tragedy — Tony Gubba

One quality in a person doesn't rule out any other quality. They can exist side by side, good and terrible. Socrates said it a lot better. — Thomas Harris

Men have periods; they're called wars. — Chuck D

In the moment when you make the least petition to God, though it be but a silent wish that he may approve you, or add one moment to your life,
do you not, in the very act, necessarily exclude all other beings from your thought? In that act, the soul stands alone with God, and Jesus is no more present to your mind than your brother or your child. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

So full. Full of lobster meat and the sadness of the lobster meat. Full of the feeling of having cracked hundreds upon hundreds of precious shells. Full of the sound and the sight of destruction, the lobsters dead in a pile, some of them with lipstick marks on their empty husks. Their voices piled up on one another. I felt a whispering coming from deep within my belly, the voices not yet at rest, and they said in a tone sympathetic and unsympathetic at the same time, Next Next Next. 'Well,' I said, 'what do we do next?' 'Lobster dinner?' he asked, chuckling a little as if I ought to be chuckling with him as well. — Alexandra Kleeman