he turned the key. The lock was jammed. He wasn’t getting inside tonight. The rain pounded down on the tin roof of the verandah and the wind swept it in under the eaves blasting him with a cold mist that sparkled on his dusty old oilskin coat. Bugger!
he turned the lock carefully. It was jammed. There was no way that he could get to open that door tonight. The rain pounding down on the tin roof as the water was swept by the wind under the eaves and spattered his dusty old oil skin coat.
What do you mean by key? There’s this key for the door, and there’s this key for music.
I’m more interested in key for the house.
Everyday I got home from school, I’m always terrified that I forgot my key. Not entering my house is a shocker. Boo for that!
key to my heart, key to my soul. I wish I had the key which opened everything in this world, but I don’t; I don’t and you do. you do. you hold the key to open everything in my world. maybe not the rest but mine, and maybe that’s not a lot, but it is.
She had forgotten it again. If it was a word, she might say that she had it on the tip of her tongue, but, it wasn’t a word. It was more than a word. Without it, she would never understand organic chemistry, and she knew it. She lacked the basic understanding, the key to it all.
key to my heart, key to my soul. I wish I had the key which opened everything in this world, but I don’t; I don’t and you do. you do. you hold the key to open everything in my world. maybe not the rest but mine, and maybe thats not a lot, but it is.
I wish I’d understand the key to life. But it’s so ineffable, there’s no way one can find it. We must go around, trying to understand how we’re bound to live.
There’s a tickle in the back of my throat. The house key is in my pocket; I can feel its weight tug gently at the fabric of my sweats as I contemplate Joanna’s shadow looming outside the obscured glass of the front door.
I sat down at the desk with a small smile playing across my features. Already, I knew something was going to happen. Something huge. But I had no idea what.
The teacher walked across the room and set down a small item on my desk. “What is it?” I asked, and she just shrugged.
“It’s a key. To locker 472. Pick up your items at the end of class.”
I watched her walk away and stared at the little piece of cut metal that now rested in the palm of my hand.
The key to happiness no one really knows what that is. no one knows the key to my heart, does anyone? no. why not. idk. no one loves me right now. i’m all alone in this house and i’m writing this and i’ve had something to drink and there’re keys on the table and i’m wanting someone to text me to say they have been thinking of me
The key was so large. It was almost as if there wasn’t a door big enough in the world for it to open. But there was. And it wasn’t exactly a door. It was her heart. Her heart–bigger than the world–that held the secrets for the key to open. But who could learn to wield the key?
The key to life isn’t made of anything specific. It’s not hidden somewhere, waiting to be found. I thought so, once. But I realized that the key to life is everywhere. We find our keys, and then lose them sometimes. But they always turn up again. The key to life exists in what we think is most important.
You’re searching through thick glen, wandering aimlessly through endless plain, battling with merciless emotions, sleeping under a starry sky, waiting for the rain to stop falling on a sunny day, running from the darkness of your mind, just to find that someone that will help open the happiness that is locked in your heart
I had a key, it was marvellous.. it opened up any imaginable door with ease. I remember one in particular; the door was silver, with a gold handle.. on the other side was heaven, just heaven.
I heard keys jingle somewhere and for a minute I thought it was my father’s. Every night I would hear his car keys jingle in his pocket as he walked down the hallway back from work, grab a glass of cold water from the kitchen, and then climb upstairs to his bedroom to retire for the night.
The key to the Underworld. The key to Heaven. The key to our Universe. It has always been me, regardless how many times I have denied it. I’ve always been the key keeper. The responsibility is on my shoulders…
A key. A magical key. What does it open? Try the first door. It doesn’t work? Try the second. Still not working? How about the third? It doesn’t fit? What does it open. Does it open a door to some magical kingdom?
“Run!” She screamed.
Dropping my bag I bolted toward the house as if I was being chased. I never ran so fast in my life! I pulled out my keys and rattled through each one, looking for the one that fit. My hands shaking, and my chest aching from all the commotion, I knew time was limited. One last key to try, but the whole thing slipped through my fingers, crashing to the brick floors of the door step. The footsteps grew louder and I bent to pick up the keys. His arms wrapped around me holding me from any movement. As he tickled me I knew he had won. I couldn’t stop laughing; I was laughing so hard liquid filled my eyes, and ran down my cheeks. I thought I was going to pee my pants too, until I saw a blurry figure running up beside him. I prayed it was Jessica, I heard the keys being grabbed off the floor and the door finally open.
“Seriously Ben, stop!” She demanded.
With that, he released me. I ran inside quickly. And heard the door slam shut.
He fumbled the key in his hand again and dropped it. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. It was her place, her key. What happened didn’t give him the right to use it to get into her apartment.
But he had to know. He picked the key up and slid it into the door’s lock with a twist. The door opened, and he stepped into the stale air of the dead girl’s home.
Who holds the key to happiness? Why is there even a key? Is it locked? Is it inaccessible? Because not all people have experienced true happiness, that’s for sure. But what if it’s not a problem of happiness being locked away so much as it is a problem of most of us looking in the wrong places? So rather than holding the key to happiness, perhaps we should find a map instead.
He hands you a key with a bit of white powder at the tip. “Ketamine?”
“I… uh…” You rummage through your mind for that brochure you received in health class for a way to turn this guy down, but the forces of evil have wiped you clean. You begin to panic.
She was the key to unlocking the past, Gregory knew. He had to know more, he had to use her… but is that really what he wanted? It was cruel, yes, but necessary. He had to do this, for the good of the company. “I’m sorry Kate.” He learned against the stone wall, running a hand through his hair.
The key to my heart. That’s the hardest key to obtain. Obviously I’m not flouncing it around for any robber to steel. No. It’s locked up in the safe for that one special to obtain the combination to the safe that holds the key to my heart. One day it will come, just not today.
The key to my heart, to my mind and to my soul. I believe I have found it, and not through meditation, spirituality or hard work., yet thy have contributed to it. It’s always been inside of me, waiting to be found. And now that I have, I am free.
There once was a key. And the boy didnt know where it belonged to or who it was for. It was old, rustic and black. Extremely arachic, the key seemed to have character, and the boy was extremely anxious to know to whom or what it belonged. He began adventuring throughout the city in which he lived to find the owner of the key.
It was an insignificant thing. Something small and easily forgotten, but when the key was laid upon her open palm it rested there with a weight that was not easily shaken.
I had a key and lost it, to my mind, to my memories. It’s not where it was supposed to be anymore. I lost it. He took it. I suppose it couldn’t have been helped. But I wonder if that key, to my memories could be possibly. Ever. Stolen back. But then it isn’t stealing I suppose since it belongs to me. Forever.
The key, it is hidden on a chain around my neck. No one would dare look there for it, and I dare not show it to anyone. I worry that I will be found out, that they will take me away. I can’t let that happen, it’ll be too hard.
There was nothing special about the key. It was old but unused, the smooth surface could attest to that. Still, it was given to everyone she met, but nobody bothered to unlock the door that lead to her heart.
the key unlocks whatever destination you want to. it is most likely a safe guard for valuable things that you hold dear to you. or just a shit ton of money you don’t want anyone to steal. Usually keys hold the greatest things. Or just something creepy that everyone prays is not. Keys are great to use if you want no one to steal your shit.
The key to the entire universe is what she always desired. She had been thinking (and indeed it had been a while since she did this type of thinking) that if she could only gain everything she wanted, she wouldn’t be in this situation. Imagine, she would think, if only I truly did have the entire world at my feet.
What does a key unlock? Does every key have a purpose? Is there a key to my heart? How will I ever know if I don’t go out and start looking. Key are one half to a couple. Who is ur lock? I’m not sure if is be a lock or a key or if that’s even how this works.
the key to my heart is under the mat of slumber where i keep my wings. i cant have you not be here, follow the never ending path to me cause i love you more than you will ever know. Dont hesitate, just belive that at the end of your jourany i will be waiting for you.
She held the key, poised and ready, in her hand. Her skin felt prickly with anticipation. She took a deep breath. “Be brave,” she told herself. She closed her eyes, screwed up her courage, turned the key in the lock, and pushed…
he turned the key. The lock was jammed. He wasn’t getting inside tonight. The rain pounded down on the tin roof of the verandah and the wind swept it in under the eaves blasting him with a cold mist that sparkled on his dusty old oilskin coat. Bugger!
he turned the lock carefully. It was jammed. There was no way that he could get to open that door tonight. The rain pounding down on the tin roof as the water was swept by the wind under the eaves and spattered his dusty old oil skin coat.
What do you mean by key? There’s this key for the door, and there’s this key for music.
I’m more interested in key for the house.
Everyday I got home from school, I’m always terrified that I forgot my key. Not entering my house is a shocker. Boo for that!
key to my heart, key to my soul. I wish I had the key which opened everything in this world, but I don’t; I don’t and you do. you do. you hold the key to open everything in my world. maybe not the rest but mine, and maybe that’s not a lot, but it is.
She had forgotten it again. If it was a word, she might say that she had it on the tip of her tongue, but, it wasn’t a word. It was more than a word. Without it, she would never understand organic chemistry, and she knew it. She lacked the basic understanding, the key to it all.
key to my heart, key to my soul. I wish I had the key which opened everything in this world, but I don’t; I don’t and you do. you do. you hold the key to open everything in my world. maybe not the rest but mine, and maybe thats not a lot, but it is.
The key was large, slightly tarnished and had an ornate spiral cut into it’s head. Cold to the touch, yet spreading a warm glow in her heart.
I wish I’d understand the key to life. But it’s so ineffable, there’s no way one can find it. We must go around, trying to understand how we’re bound to live.
There’s a tickle in the back of my throat. The house key is in my pocket; I can feel its weight tug gently at the fabric of my sweats as I contemplate Joanna’s shadow looming outside the obscured glass of the front door.
the Key to happiness is when you make people happy … see them laughing from their heart, smiling with eyes full of LOVE for you !
I sat down at the desk with a small smile playing across my features. Already, I knew something was going to happen. Something huge. But I had no idea what.
The teacher walked across the room and set down a small item on my desk. “What is it?” I asked, and she just shrugged.
“It’s a key. To locker 472. Pick up your items at the end of class.”
I watched her walk away and stared at the little piece of cut metal that now rested in the palm of my hand.
The key to happiness no one really knows what that is. no one knows the key to my heart, does anyone? no. why not. idk. no one loves me right now. i’m all alone in this house and i’m writing this and i’ve had something to drink and there’re keys on the table and i’m wanting someone to text me to say they have been thinking of me
The key was so large. It was almost as if there wasn’t a door big enough in the world for it to open. But there was. And it wasn’t exactly a door. It was her heart. Her heart–bigger than the world–that held the secrets for the key to open. But who could learn to wield the key?
The key to life isn’t made of anything specific. It’s not hidden somewhere, waiting to be found. I thought so, once. But I realized that the key to life is everywhere. We find our keys, and then lose them sometimes. But they always turn up again. The key to life exists in what we think is most important.
to be alone inside thousands of pages, miles away feel more like miles deep.
You’re searching through thick glen, wandering aimlessly through endless plain, battling with merciless emotions, sleeping under a starry sky, waiting for the rain to stop falling on a sunny day, running from the darkness of your mind, just to find that someone that will help open the happiness that is locked in your heart
Carved. Emblazoned. Decorated. Hung. Dead. Cold. Magnetic. Poised. Grasped. Turned. Translated. Corrected. Used. Cobbled.
This key, they say, will open your heart, where can I find this key? Where can I find your heart?
I had a key, it was marvellous.. it opened up any imaginable door with ease. I remember one in particular; the door was silver, with a gold handle.. on the other side was heaven, just heaven.
I heard keys jingle somewhere and for a minute I thought it was my father’s. Every night I would hear his car keys jingle in his pocket as he walked down the hallway back from work, grab a glass of cold water from the kitchen, and then climb upstairs to his bedroom to retire for the night.
The key to the Underworld. The key to Heaven. The key to our Universe. It has always been me, regardless how many times I have denied it. I’ve always been the key keeper. The responsibility is on my shoulders…
A key. A magical key. What does it open? Try the first door. It doesn’t work? Try the second. Still not working? How about the third? It doesn’t fit? What does it open. Does it open a door to some magical kingdom?
“Run!” She screamed.
Dropping my bag I bolted toward the house as if I was being chased. I never ran so fast in my life! I pulled out my keys and rattled through each one, looking for the one that fit. My hands shaking, and my chest aching from all the commotion, I knew time was limited. One last key to try, but the whole thing slipped through my fingers, crashing to the brick floors of the door step. The footsteps grew louder and I bent to pick up the keys. His arms wrapped around me holding me from any movement. As he tickled me I knew he had won. I couldn’t stop laughing; I was laughing so hard liquid filled my eyes, and ran down my cheeks. I thought I was going to pee my pants too, until I saw a blurry figure running up beside him. I prayed it was Jessica, I heard the keys being grabbed off the floor and the door finally open.
“Seriously Ben, stop!” She demanded.
With that, he released me. I ran inside quickly. And heard the door slam shut.
He fumbled the key in his hand again and dropped it. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. It was her place, her key. What happened didn’t give him the right to use it to get into her apartment.
But he had to know. He picked the key up and slid it into the door’s lock with a twist. The door opened, and he stepped into the stale air of the dead girl’s home.
Who holds the key to happiness? Why is there even a key? Is it locked? Is it inaccessible? Because not all people have experienced true happiness, that’s for sure. But what if it’s not a problem of happiness being locked away so much as it is a problem of most of us looking in the wrong places? So rather than holding the key to happiness, perhaps we should find a map instead.
He hands you a key with a bit of white powder at the tip. “Ketamine?”
“I… uh…” You rummage through your mind for that brochure you received in health class for a way to turn this guy down, but the forces of evil have wiped you clean. You begin to panic.
She was the key to unlocking the past, Gregory knew. He had to know more, he had to use her… but is that really what he wanted? It was cruel, yes, but necessary. He had to do this, for the good of the company. “I’m sorry Kate.” He learned against the stone wall, running a hand through his hair.
The key to my heart. That’s the hardest key to obtain. Obviously I’m not flouncing it around for any robber to steel. No. It’s locked up in the safe for that one special to obtain the combination to the safe that holds the key to my heart. One day it will come, just not today.
The key to my heart, to my mind and to my soul. I believe I have found it, and not through meditation, spirituality or hard work., yet thy have contributed to it. It’s always been inside of me, waiting to be found. And now that I have, I am free.
There once was a key. And the boy didnt know where it belonged to or who it was for. It was old, rustic and black. Extremely arachic, the key seemed to have character, and the boy was extremely anxious to know to whom or what it belonged. He began adventuring throughout the city in which he lived to find the owner of the key.
It was an insignificant thing. Something small and easily forgotten, but when the key was laid upon her open palm it rested there with a weight that was not easily shaken.
I had a key and lost it, to my mind, to my memories. It’s not where it was supposed to be anymore. I lost it. He took it. I suppose it couldn’t have been helped. But I wonder if that key, to my memories could be possibly. Ever. Stolen back. But then it isn’t stealing I suppose since it belongs to me. Forever.
The key, it is hidden on a chain around my neck. No one would dare look there for it, and I dare not show it to anyone. I worry that I will be found out, that they will take me away. I can’t let that happen, it’ll be too hard.
There was nothing special about the key. It was old but unused, the smooth surface could attest to that. Still, it was given to everyone she met, but nobody bothered to unlock the door that lead to her heart.
the key unlocks whatever destination you want to. it is most likely a safe guard for valuable things that you hold dear to you. or just a shit ton of money you don’t want anyone to steal. Usually keys hold the greatest things. Or just something creepy that everyone prays is not. Keys are great to use if you want no one to steal your shit.
The key to the entire universe is what she always desired. She had been thinking (and indeed it had been a while since she did this type of thinking) that if she could only gain everything she wanted, she wouldn’t be in this situation. Imagine, she would think, if only I truly did have the entire world at my feet.
What does a key unlock? Does every key have a purpose? Is there a key to my heart? How will I ever know if I don’t go out and start looking. Key are one half to a couple. Who is ur lock? I’m not sure if is be a lock or a key or if that’s even how this works.
the key to my heart is under the mat of slumber where i keep my wings. i cant have you not be here, follow the never ending path to me cause i love you more than you will ever know. Dont hesitate, just belive that at the end of your jourany i will be waiting for you.
She held the key, poised and ready, in her hand. Her skin felt prickly with anticipation. She took a deep breath. “Be brave,” she told herself. She closed her eyes, screwed up her courage, turned the key in the lock, and pushed…
love honesty loyalty justice care compassion me you together quality time feel enjoy journal cry think about you’re life