I’m just like anyone. I cut and I bleed. And I embarass easily.
Writing doesn’t come easily to me. It gets more and more difficult.
I can easily ignore my detractors and feel the people who respond favorably.
That which we obtain too easily, we esteem too lightly.
You can easily become boxed in and be only identified with musicals or plays.
If I’d been easily discouraged, I could have been a one-hit wonder.
I think I’ve begun to take for granted how easily information can swirl around me.
I get bored pretty easily and I don’t want to get locked down in one profession.
Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.
The heart apparently doesn’t stop that easily.
Even if I was in prison, I could be free in my head. I can adapt easily.
Fame and stardom sat very easily on Elizabeth Taylor’s shoulders.
I laugh and joke, but I don’t get distracted very easily.
I don’t get easily bored. I’m not that kind of person.
I can easily say I’ve done everything I’ve wanted in music.
I like to do things quickly because I’m easily bored.
The ego is kind of a big, unwieldy thing. It’s not so easily tamed or subdued.
On stage, I find anger at the unfairness of the world easily.
Dying is one of the few things that can be done as easily lying down.
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