I have to say that I have been blessed with significant teachers at every stage of my life.
And that's all I've got to say about that.
If your gonna screw up, do it while you're young. Older you get, the harder it is to bounce back.
I may not be a smart man, but I know what love is.
The weeks go by so slow I almost think time passin backwards.
I still got dreams like anybody else, an ever so often, I am thinkin about how things might of been.
So whatever else has happened, I am figgerin this: I can always look back an say, at least I ain't led no hum-drum life.
Smokey, this is not 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.
What's prayer? It's shooting shafts into the dark. What mark they strike, if any, who's to say? It's reaching for a hand you cannot touch. The silence is so fathomless that prayers like plummets vanish into the sea. You beg. You whimper. You load God down with empty praise. You tell him sins that he already knows full well. You seek to change his changeless will. Yet Godric prays the way he breathes, for else his heart would wither in his breast. Prayer is the wind that fills his sail. Else drift with witless tides. And sometimes, by God's grace, a prayer is heard.
It's not really the life of cooking that's hard - it's what you make of it and what level you push yourself to.
I understand polyamory is different from polygamy, and doesn't share the latter's rigid and noxious views that men run the show and are the only ones allowed multiple partners.