Sunday, January 17, 2016

The Frictionary # 617

Here is another page taken from The Frictionary:

5696. Trust, like the soul, never returns once it is gone. (Publius Syrus)

5697. Deprivation is the mother of poetry. (Leonard Cohen)

5698. One more day
Might as well fill it
before it becomes
one day less. (Marie-Christine Grimard)

5699. At eighteen our convictions are hills from which we look; at forty-five they are caves in which we hide. (F. Scott Fitzgerald)

5700. It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice. (John Cassis)

5701. Time overcomes everything, it is patience in action. (Reine Malouin)

5702. So often your loved ones mistake your understanding for approval, having already mistaken your love for understanding. (Robert Brault)

5703. There comes a time when you have to choose between turning the page and closing the book. (Josh Jameson)

5704. He has Van Gogh's ear for music. (Billy Wilder)

5705. I recognized happiness by the sound it made when leaving. (Jacques Prévert)

That's all for this edition of The Frictionary. Your comments and suggestions are welcome, but commercial links will be rejected. Subscribe and receive this free weekly blog in your in-box. Have a great week!

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