Certain things have happened and there are no words for these things, at least not words which are adequate.
Each time a person dies, a story comes to an end.
What do you call an ancient Egyptian who died of Diabetes?
Every story has a beginning
Do I really look like a guy with a plan?”
Mors certa, hora incerta. Death is certain, its hour uncertain.
Goodbye 2019, the evil you have done is too much.
There is so much I want to say to you. So much, too much.
Man, I miss living with my family. I miss the days which began with the sound of my mother’s tambourine and my groggy eyed siblings singing “good morning Jesus, good morning Lord” for the umpteenth morning in a row.
Many men, many, many, many men-50 Cent