The best part about being a matchmaker is you are getting credits in heaven, as I really believe I work for God. The worst part is that matchmakers can often fix everyone up, all the way to the altar, but cannot find love themselves, so it is bittersweet.

Apart from the most obvious cases, like the Oriental Bittersweet vine, escaped from private gardens and smothering the mountains one acre at a time, the most painful proof of man's destruction is not what you can see right in front of you; it's what you will never see again.

Any time I hear certain songs I put in a movie, I have to not listen to them anymore because I associate them with that movie. They take on that association rather than the association I had when I first heard them. So it's kinda bittersweet to put a song in a movie, honestly.

The retirement at WrestleMania 32 was a bittersweet moment for me. I was excited to see the next chapter of my life, which is becoming a mother, but at the same time, it was a very historical moment. It was a big part of what the Women's Division has been striving and fighting for.

There was a bidding war between Epic Records and Jive - now RCA - which was bittersweet. Just having labels bid over me was really cool, but I ended up going with Jive because it felt better over there, and they have my favorite artists like Usher, Chris Brown, and Justin Timberlake.

On the one hand, I'm so relieved that I've actually managed to finish my very first series and that I've been able to see my characters through to the end of their journeys. On the other hand, I feel like how parents must feel when they send their kid off to college. It's a bittersweet mix.

I love that, even after jumping through hoops forever, I can still get that buzz, that hook. That's very healthy, but it's bittersweet, too, because if you don't get the part, you have to deal with the disappointment. I don't think I'll ever negotiate those peaks and troughs wholly healthily.

My childhood was bittersweet in many ways. We moved around a lot. By the time I was 10, I had travelled thousands of miles, often on my own. My parents were like my friends, so it felt like I didn't really have parents at all. But in a crazy way that was very liberating. It forced me to be independent, maybe a leader, and certainly a survivor.

I saw this Facebook video of a boy, probably around seven, wearing a dress he had fashioned from a blanket, sashaying through his house while his mother applauded and cheered him on. He was so proud. It was such a beautiful thing but bittersweet because I knew his spirit would change soon: that he'd become self-aware and ashamed at some level.

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