Dere''s A Luxury In
Self-Reproach,
Whn V Blame
Ourselves,
V Feel Dath No One Else
Has A Rite 2 Blame Us.
Its d Confession, Not
The Priest, Dat Gives
Us Absoluti
_ Unbeatable Lines _
Our body is fully made ov water
but whnevr it hurts,
Blood comes out
Our Heart is full ov Blood
whnver it hurts,
Water comes from our eyes
The art of living does not consist
in preserving and clinging
to a particular mood of happiness,
but in allowing happiness
to change its form without
being disappointed by the change;
for happiness, like a child,
must be allowed to grow up.
Nothin Is Worth More han This Day
U Can''t Relive Yesterday . .
Tommorow Is Still Beyond Ur Reach . . .
So Go Ahead Live Today . . B''coz It''ll Never Come Tommorow. .
