Mention207032
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| so:text | Death and disaster are at our shoulders every second of our lives, trying to get at us. Missing, a lot of the time. A lot of miles on the motorway without a front wheel blow-out. A lot of viruses that slither through our bodies without snagging. A lot of pianos that fall a minute after we've passed. Or a month, it makes no difference. So unless were going to get down on our knees and give thanks every time disaster misses, it makes no sense to moan when it strikes. (en) |
| so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Hugh_Laurie |
| so:description | The Gun Seller (1996) (en) |
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Triples where Mention207032 is the object (without rdf:type)
| qkg:Quotation194709 | qkg:hasMention |
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