A Quote by Randy Travis

Maybe we could learn a little lesson, maybe this all shine a little light, cause there's no healthy way to mess with the line between wrong and right. — © Randy Travis
Maybe we could learn a little lesson, maybe this all shine a little light, cause there's no healthy way to mess with the line between wrong and right.
I think maybe we die every day. Maybe we're born new each dawn, a little changed, a little further on our own road. When enough days stand between you and the person you were, you're strangers. Maybe that's what growing up is. Maybe I have grown up.
I'm no perfect gymnast. I want to go out and eat junk food, or I maybe don't sleep as much as I should, or some days I'll leave the gym and think, "Maybe I should have worked a little harder. Maybe I'm not as tired as I need to be." Every day you push a little harder, eat a little better, maybe go to bed a little earlier.
Maybe I was being too picky. Maybe I didn't want to be close to anyone. Maybe I'd just be the type who couldn't feel love all the way or something. I couldn't tell what was wrong, but what was wrong was that it just wasn't right.
Maybe she should cut the guy a little slack, [...] Maybe Thorne had been a no-show because something bad happened to him on the job. What if he'd been injured in the line of duty and didn't come by as promised because he was incapacitated in some way? Maybe he hadn't called to apologize or to explain his absence because he physically couldn't. Right. And maybe she had checked her brain into her panties from the second she first laid eyes on the man.
Maybe the biggest award show of the largest entertainment importer in the world needs an economic incentive to embrace diversity. Indeed, maybe we should boycott the show and pressure advertisers to do the same. Or maybe the Academy should learn the lesson of history and change because it's the right thing to do.
Maybe Liz was right and she'd wanted someplace safe. Maybe Mr. Solomon really did understand that running was the only way Macey would find out if we'd run after her. Or maybe, like me, she just wanted to disappear for a little while
Maybe I could have loved you better. Maybe you should have loved me more. Maybe our hearts were just next in line. Maybe everything breaks sometime.
I'd love to do a fashion label in the future. I've been thinking a lot recently about maybe making a line of little dresses, so maybe one day.
Now when Nile perch was introduced [into Lake Victoria], I don't think enough research was done; maybe it was done, maybe it was not. But Nile perch is a huge fish. So it ate all the little fish, and it grew into a monster which the local people could not fish with their little boats and their little nets.
Maybe my mother's right. Maybe there is more to Bryce Loski than I know. Maybe it's time to meet him in the proper light.
If I had been a different sort of person, maybe less impressionable, less intense, less fearful, less utterly dependent upon the perceptions of others - maybe then I would not have bought the cultural party line that thinness is the be-all and end-all of goals. Maybe if my family had not been in utter chaos most of the time, maybe if my parents were a little better at dealing with their own lives maybe if I'd gotten help sooner, or if I'd gotten different help, maybe if I didn't so fiercely cherish my secret, or if I were not such a good liar, or were not quite so empty inside... maybe.
I just try to think of all the things that could go wrong so in that split second when it happens, maybe your body reacts in a way where it protects you just a little.
Maybe it's a little more pertinent now since the whole concept of evolution is being questioned by the know-nothing Republican right. Yes, maybe the play's a little more pertinent now.
Maybe this won't last very long but you feel so right and I could be wrong. Maybe I've been hoping too hard. I've gone this far and it's more than I hope for.
So you got rid of your astonishment that someone could write so much more dynamically than you. You stopped cherishing your aloneness and poetic differentness to your delicately flat little bosom. You said: she's to good to forget. How about making her a friend and competitor — you could learn alot from her. So you'll try. So maybe she'll laugh in your face. So maybe she'll beat you hollow in the end. So anyhow, you'll try, and maybe, possibly, she can stand you. Here's hoping!
Maybe the truth is, there's a little bit of loser in all of us. Being happy isn't having everything in your life be perfect. Maybe it's about stringing together all the little things.
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