"The whole world is like Whitewall's razors I burst out. It cuts us, and we bleed but there's no purpose to it."

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Some say love it is a river that drowns the tender reeds. Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your heart to bleed. Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need. I say love, it is a flower and you, its only seed.

— Bette Midler