There was nothing to talk about anymore. The only thing to do was go.

None of us can ever know the value of our lives, or how our separate and silent scribbling may add to the amenity of the world, if only by how radically it changes us, one and by one.

Irregularity and want of method are only supportable in men of great learning or genius, who are often too full to be exact, and therefore they choose to throw down their pearls in heaps before the reader, rather than be at the pains of stringing them.

Even if you buy a fur glove with the little trim, and you think &#39;Oh, my God, it&#39;s just a little trim,&#39; that animal got clubbed.

Written By Eva Mendes

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