A Quote by Mark Antony

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears. — © Mark Antony
Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
Friendth, Romanth, countrymen, lend me your earsth.
Romans, countrymen, and lovers, hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear.
The short-cut to popularity is to lend everyone your ears, instead of giving them your tongue
Lend.” “Lend?” Raquel asked. “Yes, as in, lend me your self.” He shimmered into Raquel again. “Why not Borrow?” I asked. “Better yet, Steal?
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not As to thy friends; for when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend?
… lend your ears to music, open your eyes to painting, and … stop thinking! Just ask yourself whether the work has enabled you to “walk about” into a hitherto unknown world. If the answer is yes, what more do you want?
Lend your ears to music, open your eyes to painting, and... stop thinking! Just ask yourself whether the work has enabled you to 'walk about' into a hitherto unknown world. If the answer is yes, what more do you want?
If a natural disaster strikes your community, reach out to your friends, neighbors, and complete strangers. Lend a helping hand.
Lend your voices only to sounds of freedom, no longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from. Fill your life with love and bravery, and you shall live a life uncommon.
That's always the way in this world. The chappies you'd like to lend money to won't let you, whereas the chappies you don't want to lend it to will do everything except actually stand you on your head and lift the specie out of your pockets.
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O grave! where is thy victory? O death! where is thy sting?
At least, not in this country,' she added after a moment's thought. 'In China it's a little different. Once I saw a Chinaman in Shanghai. His ears were so big he could use them for a raincoat. When it rained, he just crept in under his ears and was warm and snug as could be. Not that the ears had such a rattling good time of it, you understand. If it was specially bad weather, he'd invite friends and acquaintances to pitch camp under his ears too. There they sat, singing their sorrowful songs while it poured down outside.
When my husband kisses my ears. My ears turn me on like nothing else, they must be my most erogenous zone. Just having my ears kneaded is like a full body massage.
The only morality I'm interested in is the morality between your ears, between each player's ears, because that's the interesting thing to me.
Welcome to your reality check - social media is not your friend, your friends are your 'friends'; invest in them, trust me.
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