When beetles fight these battles in a bottle with their paddles
and the bottle's on a poodle and the poodle's eating noodles...
...they call this a muddle puddle tweetle poodle beetle noodle
bottle paddle battle.
,
When beetles fight these battles in a bottle with their paddles
and the bottle's on a poodle and the poodle's eating noodles...
...they call this a muddle puddle tweetle poodle beetle noodle
bottle paddle battle.
Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.
I opened a book and in I strode.
Now nobody can find me.
I've left my chair, my house, my road,
My town and my world behind me.
I'm wearing the cloak, I've slipped on the ring,
I've swallowed the magic potion.
I've fought with a dragon, dined with a king
And dived in a bottomless ocean.
I opened a book and made some friends.
I shared their tears and laughter
And followed their road with its bumps and bends
To the happily ever after.
I finished my book and out I came.
The cloak can no longer hide me.
My chair and my house are just the same,
But I have a book inside me.
Stories have a way of changing faces. They are unruly things, undisciplined, given to delinquency and the throwing of erasers. This is why we must close them up into thick, solid books, so they cannot get out and cause trouble.
I'm not lost, because I haven't any idea where to go that I might get lost on the way to. I'd like to get lost, because then I'd know where I was going, you see.
Today was a difficult day. Tomorrow will be better
Hats have power. Hats can change you into someone else.
Do not lose hope - what you seek will be found.
Words can be worrisome, poeple complex, motives and manners unclear, grant her the wisdom to choose her path right, free from unkindness and fear.
God knows what we do not see, so let Him lead and set you free.
Tôi gửi tình yêu cho mùa hè, nhưng mùa hè không giữ nổi. Mùa hè chỉ biết ra hoa, phượng đỏ sân trường và tiếng ve nỉ non trong lá. Mùa hè ngây ngô, giống như tôi vậy. Nó chẳng làm được những điều tôi kí thác. Nó để Hà Lan đốt tôi, đốt rụi. Trái tim tôi cháy thành tro, rơi vãi trên đường về.
Sometimes what we don't want is actually what we need.
Suddenly, an idea swooshed into his marsupial brain like a small propeller plane buzzing a crowd. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?