This is unexpected... like squirt from aggressive grapefruit.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
If there are occasions when my grape turned into a raisin and my joy bell lost its resonance, please forgive me. Charge it to my head and not to my heart.
The vine bears three kinds of grapes: the first of pleasure, the second of intoxication, the third of disgust.
My favorite fruit is grapes. Because with grapes, you always get another chance. 'Cause, you know, if you have a crappy apple or a peach, you're stuck with that crappy piece of fruit. But if you have a crappy grape, no problem - just move on to the next. 'Grapes: The Fruit of Hope.'
The intoxication of anger, like that of the grape, shows us to others, but hides us from ourselves.
A dear friend of mine always brings a pineapple instead of flowers when he comes to a show. I love it.
I don't know what first got me to attack melons. It's not like I ate a bad one and got an upset stomach. It just eventually seemed like the appropriate fruit.
If you sit in a bath of pineapple chunks, it can kill you. That's well documented.
I'm being hypocritical because I have a Twitter, but I try to not talk about things like, 'Oh, I had a grapefruit this morning and it was delicious,' because, who cares?
Sometimes you've just got to grab an apple - or grapes, or strawberries. Something that's healthy but maybe a little bit more adventurous, if you can see fruit as adventurous.
I am a grateful... grapefruit.