What can I say about life? Do I praise it for letting you live, or damn it for allowing the rest?
A bitter reality of truth can be wisely told in a sweet tale of lullaby.
I no longer pursue happiness, for it alludes me in every occasion. It is as if I'm trying to find something that is invisible, and sometimes I can't help to wonder if I'm the only one who it is oblivious to
My own chocolate center has filled up with poison, the roses he gave me all twisted black
Luck is a word the bitter teach to the ignorant.
Oh darling, don't be bitter. It's the first instinct of the weak.
A lie, as you probably know, has a taste all its own. Blocky and bitter and never quite right, like when you pop a piece of fancy chocolate into your mouth expecting toffee filling and you get lemon zest instead.
The truth stinks. Thus it's covered.
Sugar candy tasted better than bitter truth.
He gave everything to everybody. Except to me.
No, I am not bitter, I am not hateful, and I am not unforgiving. I just don't like you.
Love may be harder to find in some people, but when they do love you know it must be something marvelous.
The bitter soul is forever tortured by darkness left undone
Revenge is Always Sweet, it's the Aftertaste that's Bitter.
It feels so bitter getting a kiss for a betrayal.