A Quote by Vicky Beeching

Thirty-five is half a life. I can't lose the other half. I've lost so much living as a shadow of a person. — © Vicky Beeching
Thirty-five is half a life. I can't lose the other half. I've lost so much living as a shadow of a person.
How old are you? 'I'm four and a half!' You're never thirty-six and a half. You're four and a half, going on five! That's the key.
I spend half my time just living my life, and the other half analyzing it.
Learning to earn a living is only half the job. The other half is to make life worthwhile and meaningful.
I've got a gig," Jim said. I sat up in my bed, wide-awake. A gig was good- I needed the money. "Half." "Third." "Half." "Thirty-five percent." Jim's voice hardened. "Half." The phone went silent as my former Guild partner mulled it over. "Okay, forty." I hung up.(...) The phone rang. I let it ring twice before I picked it up. "Fine." Jim's voice had a hint of a snarl in it. "Half.
A tree there is that from its topmost bough Is half all glittering flame and half all green Abounding foliage moistened with the dew; And half is half and yet is all the scene; And half and half consume what they renew.
What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow.
Loyalty is dead, the experts proclaim, and the statistics seem to bear them out. On average, U.S. corporations now lose half their customers in five years, half their employees in four, and half their investors in less than one. We seem to face a future in which the only business relationships will be opportunistic transactions between virtual strangers.
Half the world's starving; the other half is trying to lose weight.
Recently somebody said, "Hey, you lost weight," and I said, "Yeah, thirty-five pounds and three and a half billion dollars." So I'm quite a bit lighter and more flexible than I was.
Imagine that half the world is hidden from you. Half of the person sitting across from you has never been appreciated, half of the garden has never been seen or smelled, half of your own life has never been truly witnessed and appraised.
I'm definitely a glass-is-always-half-full, not half-empty, kind of person. Which is why I love living in America.
This living stuff is a lot. Too much, and not enough. Half empty, and half full.
Lips half-willing in a doorway. Lips half-singing at a window. Eyes half-dreaming in the walls. Feet half-dancing in a kitchen. Even the clocks half-yawn the hours And the farmers make half-answers.
I am lucky because I do fine art, and that is half of my living. And then illustration provides the other half.
Living out one's faith is either no way to live or the only way to live; it's either imprisonment, or the only path to freedom. It offers happiness, or it frustrates the pursuit. There is no half-love, half-religion, half-worship, half-belief, half-truth. There is no kinda-sorta.
In the modern world, it may be that a living father can only be half a father to a boy - the dead father is the other vital half: the half that grows the boy up once and for all.
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