A Quote by Emile Zola

The road to Lourdes is littered with crutches, but not one wooden leg. — © Emile Zola
The road to Lourdes is littered with crutches, but not one wooden leg.
Thinking of getting into the leg-breaking business, so I can profitably sell crutches later.
A dedication is a wooden leg.
I saw a man with a wooden leg and a real foot.
Cross my wooden leg, swear on my glass eye.
Visiting Anderson Silva. He's doing AMAZING! Leg is healing fast and will be walking without crutches in 30 days.
I was riding pillion on my friend's motorbike, and we met with an accident which badly injured my right leg. I was bedridden for three years and used crutches for one year before I fully recovered.
I have a very basic leg. But it has a silicon cover on it. I have a flat foot leg, a high heel leg and then I have a leg which, in the winter, I have to ski in and in the summer I swap it into my roller blades.
The road to love is littered by the bones of other ones, who by the magic of the moment were mysteriously undone.
What he brought out was a wooden gag they put in someone's mouth before doing something drastic, like cutting off a leg.
The cruel realities of austerity and Brexit mean that life is chaotic, expensive and the road ahead is littered with obstacles.
I miss him like one might miss a scar, or wooden leg, something disfiguring but characteristic.
I was on my way to fetch my little sister from school when I met with an accident. A bike which was at a very high speed ran over my leg while I was crossing the road. My leg was so badly fractured that it took me almost seven months to be able to stand on my legs again.
One of my pet peeves is that when people are in their automobiles, I think they're exceptionally rude on the road. I would love to have the superpower to make their cars break down after they do something rude on the road so the freeways would be littered with these jackasses who have broken-down cars.
The road of rock and roll (much like life) is littered with broken dreams and death. And it's our job to overcome these and to survive.
My stern chase after time is, to borrow a simile from Tom Paine, like the race of a man with a wooden leg after a horse.
My interest is to point out to you that you can walk, and please throw away all those crutches. If you are really handicapped, I wouldn’t advise you to do any such thing. But you are made to feel by other people that you are handicapped so that they could sell you those crutches. Throw them away and you can walk. That’s all that I can say. ‘If I fall....’ - that is your fear. Put the crutches away, and you are not going to fall.
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