A Quote by Francesca Marciano

No use crying over spilled milk. — © Francesca Marciano
No use crying over spilled milk.
Now, there's no use crying over spoiled milk.
It's no use crying over spilt milk, because all of the forces of the universe were bent on spilling it.
Don't cry over spilled milk
... every time I got disappointed I'd remember the Roseannadanna philosophy that says that you shouldn't cry over split milk 'cause if you spill some milk and instead of cleaning it up you just walk over it and start crying, they're gonna put you on lithium.
I don't cry over the past or worry about spilled milk.
Don't cry over spilled milk. By this time tomorrow, it'll be free yogurt.
Don't cry over spilled milk-- get angry and punch a cow.
We can't behave like crocodiles and cry over spilled milk and broken eggs.
Let's say your child spills his or her milk, and it's the only milk you have left, and it seems you're at the end of your rope, just remember: that milk is already spilled. There is no sense in making a sad situation more stressful.
It's no good crying over spilt milk; all we can do is bail up another cow
There is no sense in crying over spilt milk. Why bewail what is done and cannot be recalled?
When that ineffable compound of depression, sadness (these two are not the same), anxiety, self-hatred, sense of failure and fear for the future begins to steal over you, start telling yourself that what you have is a hangover. You are not sickening for anything, you have not suffered a minor brain lesion, you are not all that bad at your job, your family and friends are not leagued in a conspiracy of barely maintained silence about what a s**t you are, you have not come at last to see life as it really is and there is no use crying over spilt milk.
I believe there were things I probably should have done differently. But I'm not going to spend a lot of time crying over spilt milk.
What happened in my past happened. What's the term - don't cry over spilled milk? That's the thing people don't understand. I'm all right. I configured myself into coming out on the other end OK. I can disassociate myself.
Vietnam was the defining event for my generation. It spilled over into all facets of American life - into music, into the pulpits, in churches of our country. It spilled over into the city streets, police forces. And even if you were born late in the generation, Vietnam was still part of your childhood.
I love revision. Where else can spilled milk be turned into ice cream?
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