

my taste of what they call reality.
my taste of not having to think all day.
my taste of what they call rocky mountain oysters.
random acts of kindness have never been so huge.
brr.
this is today.
not the taste of life, the taste for life.
i taste no more.
...taste the rainbow.
i can taste your inquiries...ask now...ask later. this it what brings us together.
gettin' a taste of the world silent treatment.
sweet tastes stream into my blood on this first day, precisely the taste to get things rolling.
christmas trees taste good...especially when they're cookies.
don't just find a way around the problem, destroy it.
She is high definition.
Lone wolf in the woods.
Good taste is in your blood, I've seen the plaid you wear.
i prefer writing letters that have straight lines.
white russians aren't really considered booze though, they're more like sex for your taste buds.
Lighter, faster, better.
Everything else is on pause.
I lost the upper hand long ago.
The size of my heart can be a curse, but not nearly as big of a curse as not letting people know what's inside it.
Get to know drama in high school, don't get obsessed with it and certainly don't avoid it, but you need at least a little taste.
frosted mini-wheats taste so good that it doesn't matter that they feel like you're eating tiny splinters of wood.
when there is no confidence in the confidence being restored, i don't believe it will be restored, but when there is confidence at least there is a chance at restoring confidence.
i would be a connoisseur of bacon, ice cream, and bacon ice cream.
but i don't have anything to fry except rice and squirrel doesn't taste that good, especially plastic squirrel.
i won't give up, i won't give in, i'll only give love, give love the way i live.
favorite meals are washed out with the flavor of love in my heart. love's taste weighs into the equation. they're tearing out the stitches before the wound heals.
saturday socks.
skating the roots.
rolling on four strong and bowling all night long.
time click, time click, time click.
mmm the sweet taste of four cups in eleven years.
wake up and smell....no no, wake up and taste....no no, wake up and love. enjoy, enjoy.