too

Imagine, if you will:A bright yellow star lit the darkness somewhere in deep space, accompanied by its rather dysfunctional family of nine deceptively ordinary-looking planets. During its enormously long lifetime many beings had named it from the far ends of distant telescopes, including it into numerous star clusters and constellations as they were perceived from their vantage points. Once, or maybe twice, creatures simply looked up into their own skies to name it from their own now long dead and deserted worlds. In more recent times, beings from a world that orbited a different sun far away gave it a name too _ creatures that called themselves Human, who travelled here and settled on one of its inner planets. The planet they chose to make a new home on? They called that Deanna. They called the star Ramalama.

Struggle for Your Goals, because its too much better than Struggling for Your Life.

I heard that Stephen King doesn't sleep well,... so I gues that he doesn't sleep well from his imagination. If I had the same imagination I won't sleep too!

You've never really know what it's like to trust God to provide for you today, because you've got today provided for. And probably tomorrow too. Maybe even into next winter, with all the food socked away in that extra freezer in the garage.

I have outlived a few of the kids that I grew up with in Knowsley Village, Liverpool, UK. Two dropped dead at eighteen years of age from heart attacks! They lived across the road from each other and played together. I wonder if it was some exposure that was common to them? Curiously, an entire family of three ladies all got breast cancer just round the corner from them, it killed my friend! A little further up the road another friend dropped dead of brain cancer in her thirties. Always seemed like far too much premature death in such a small area.

Better a little with God than a whole lot without Him. Better to have fewer houses, cars, appliances, clothes, toys, and bills than to have the whole world and lose your soul. Better something paid for that's used and enjoyed and shared and worn out than something nice and shiny and new that won't be paid for until 2019 and that you're too stressed to enjoy. Better a little with the fear of the Lord than more of what everyone else has. Better than normal, instead of normal is best.

The TSA liked having fresh agents on the job. Fresh agents with a clear mind and steady hand. Time travel wasn__ for the faint of heart. The pay was good though, but as Scrooby had decided long ago, that even if he didn__ get paid for it, the thrill alone was payment enough. Then again, the TSA realized they couldn__ afford to have disgruntled employees with too much time on their hands and the power of the gods at their fingertips, so the pay was very, very good. Debriefing was routine. And how he hated routine! His supervisor was a senior agent called Guy Krummeck, a rather drab character who liked his shiny silver suits almost as much as he liked to go over every little detail at least three times. Minimum. This time everything went right, so it went quick. Twenty minutes later, tired, he clocked out and went home to his small apartment. Tomorrow, after all, was another day again.

I'm too mature to be angry.

I have too much money invested in sweaters.

Money often costs too much.

Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.

Trust not too much to appearances.

We live too long for one marriage.

Barton Fink is just too self-important as an artist to get much sympathy.

Intense feeling too often obscures the truth.

Too much of a good thing can be taxing.

Intellectuals are too sentimental for me.

Tragedy is a hell of a teacher. It's much too strict, but it's a hell of a teacher.