I think pick-your-own-fruit orchards have unfair labor practices--you pick, we profit.
From what I can tell by people giving birth, I think even a labor of love is painful work.
It seems like the concept of Labor Day is messed up. Half of us have the day off, and the other half are laboring.
I think some of my best dreams are the ones I can't remember.
People say "I'd love to be a fly on the wall to hear what they're talking about." I think not if any of the people talking has a flyswatter.
Every time I think I've had it up to here, I realize I've been here before.
I think that having plenty is enough, but also, enough is enough.
I think I'll leave it here. Or maybe here. Okay, I'm definitely leaving it here.
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