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“Sometimes, when inspiration runs dry, I drink classical music until my words spill out.”
Kamand Kojouri“Water in, water out until there is no water to run and the riverbed runs dry. That's life”
Bangambiki Habyarimana, Pearls Of Eternity“The living water that never runs dry,The water of life, Lord, the saviour of the world.”
Lailah Gifty Akita“Indifference is a well that never runs dry, and as good a word for evil as was ever composed.”
Fernando A. Torres, A Habit of Resistance“You would think there's a natural limit to tears: only so much the body can give at one sitting before it runs dry.”
Janice Galloway, The Trick Is to Keep Breathing“We adapt to our sorrows, I suppose, as unpleasant as they might be. One cannot weep forever. One simply runs dry of tears.”
Chris Womersley, Bereft“Joy is distinctly a Christian word and a Christian thing. It is the reverse of happiness. Happiness is the result of what happens of an agreeable sort. Joy has its spring deep down inside. And that spring never runs dry, no matter what happens. Only Jesus gives that joy.”
Samuel Gordon“Stamp, your name is to be Laura. I'm sharing my name with you. I'm putting my power into you and you must do my work. Don't listen to anyone but me. You are to be my command laid on my enemy. you'll make a hole in him through which he'll drip away until he runs dry. As he drips out darkness, we'll smile together, me inside, you outside. We'll crush him between our smiles.”
Margaret Mahy, The Changeover“There's a stream that trickles through all of us. It's always there. It's evil and we know this, so we force it to mix with the larger river inside us. We let it be consumed by the greater flow of good. But when the good in the river runs dry and there isn't enough of it to dilute the stream, then the stream flows faster and harder, uncontrolled, and it finally floods one life, then another, then another. And it's always the innocent who are easiest to pull down. It's always the innocent who are standing there on the banks and looking in, curious and trusting and sometimes, maybe, even a little brave.”
T. Jefferson Parker, Where Serpents Lie