Oftentimes when kids are left with their grandparents they're not agile enough to keep up with all of the things that they're going through.
It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air.
Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love. It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air.
It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air.
My mother taught me this trick: if you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning, for example homework homework homework homework homework homework homework homework homework, see? Nothing. Our existence she said is the same way. You watch the sunset too often it just becomes 6 pm you make the same mistake over and over you stop calling it a mistake. If you just wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up one day you'll forget why.
Burn the Louvre, and wipe your ass with the Mona Lisa. This way at least, God would know our names.
Private ownership of land is the nether mill-stone. Material progress is the upper mill-stone. Between them, with an increasing pressure, the working classes are being ground.
Men are seldom more commonplace than on supreme occasions.