A Quote by Gordon Lightfoot

The road to love is littered by the bones of other ones, who by the magic of the moment were mysteriously undone. — © Gordon Lightfoot
The road to love is littered by the bones of other ones, who by the magic of the moment were mysteriously undone.
Magic is love. All magic should be performed out of love. The moment anger or hatred tinges your magic, you have crossed the border into a dangerous world, one that will ultimately consume you.
One of my pet peeves is that when people are in their automobiles, I think they're exceptionally rude on the road. I would love to have the superpower to make their cars break down after they do something rude on the road so the freeways would be littered with these jackasses who have broken-down cars.
Wall Street is littered with the bones of those who knew just what to do, but could not bring themselves to do it.
Alas! the road to Anywhere is pitfalled with disaster; There's hunger, want, and weariness, yet O we loved it so! As on we tramped exultantly, and no man was our master, And no man guessed what dreams were ours, as, swinging heel and toe, We tramped the road to Anywhere, the magic road to Anywhere, The tragic road to Anywhere, such dear, dim years ago.
I brush my hair, waiting in the pain machine for my bones to get hard, for the soft, soft bones that were laid apart and were screwed together. They will knit. And the other corpse, the fractured heart, I feed it piecemeal, little chalice. I'm good to it.
The impression is that love is something that happens to you like magic. That love is something others do for you, but that you cannot do for yourself. Love is not something you wait for. Love doesn't just happen. Love is something you do. When you want love, give love. Moment to moment, you make the choice whether to give love and be loved.
Mysteriously, as elusive as it is, this moment--where the eye is what it sees, where the heart is what it feels--this moment shows us that what is real is sacred
The road to Lourdes is littered with crutches, but not one wooden leg.
I love the complication of the kids in the characters' lives. I love that these two people are very capable in all these ways. They're so trained. They're kind of deadly. They're smart and vicious at times, but I love that they're undone by a teenager, like we all are. We're all incensed and undone by the ungratefulness of a child, and I love that it matters so greatly to them, in a way that it matters to every parent. Teenagers are going to do that no matter where you live or who you are.
Because this is our life. We met on the road; we grew to know and to love each other on the road. It's where we were meant to be for however long, and it's what we're going to do until it becomes clear that we're meant to do something else.
Take two bodies and you twirl them into one, their hearts and their bones, and they won't come undone.
At that moment Mr. Clifford, quite unconscious that he and his most personal feelings and aspirations were subjects of discussion, was turning from the main road into the lower road.
I still love being on the road. I've been doing it since I left school. It's in my blood, it's in my bones.
It seemed to me at an early age that all human communication - whether it's TV, movies, or books - begins with somebody wanting to tell a story. That need to tell, to plug into a universal socket, is probably one of our grandest desires. And the need to hear stories, to live lives other than our own for even the briefest moment, is the key to the magic that was born in our bones.
Careers are funny things. They begin mysteriously and, just as mysteriously, they can end.
I love the road. That's always been my goal. I've said that to many record labels. I want to make records. The road is my favorite. Some people hate the road, I love the road.
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