A Quote by Michael Bassey

Falling in love is dying by the cupid's bow. — © Michael Bassey
Falling in love is dying by the cupid's bow.
I would love to do Rihanna's makeup. I love her cupid's bow!
Cupid and my Campaspe play'd At cards for kisses - Cupid paid: He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lips, the rose Growing one's cheek (but none knows how); With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin: All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes - She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this for thee? What shall, alas! become of me?
Remove the temptation of idleness and Cupid's bow is useless.
Take away leisure and Cupid's bow is broken
Remove but the temptations of leisure, and the bow of Cupid will lose its effect.
If you give up your quiet life, the bow of Cupid will lose its power.
According to the Asiatics, Cupid's bow is strung with bees which are apt to sting, sometimes fatally, those who meddle with it.
The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,as if orchards were dying high in space.Each leaf falls as if it were motioning "no."And tonight the heavy earth is fallingaway from all other stars in the loneliness.We're all falling. This hand here is falling.And look at the other one. It's in them all.And yet there is Someone, whose handsinfinitely calm, holding up all this falling.
Cupid in these latter times has probably laid aside his bow and arrow, and uses fire-arms -- a pistol -- perhaps a revolver.
My favorite way to be bold? Bouncing on a little highlighter with a damp Beautyblender. Especially under the brow bone, on the tip of the nose, and on the Cupid's bow!
But who can distinguish between falling in love and imagining falling in love? Even genuinely falling in love is an act of the imagination.
Stupid cupid you're a real mean guy, I'd like to pick your wings so you can't fly, I am in love and it's a crying shame, and I know that you're the one to blame, hey, hey set me free, stupid cupid, stop picking on me.
Archers ever Have two strings to bow; and shall great Cupid (Archer of archers both in men and women), Be worse provided than a common archer?
I didn’t fall in love with James. Falling sounds like an accident. Falling hurts. I’d fallen in love with Michael, fallen hard like slipping off a cliff and hitting the rocks below. Falling in love was something I’d vowed never to do again. I chose to love James.
I don't know what it is about bow ties, but I love a good bow tie on a man.
Bow, bow, ye lower middle classes! Bow, bow, ye tradesmen, bow, ye masses!
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