He sometimes ran a purple ribbon through his typewriter and gushed where he should have dammed.

The heart is the only broken instrument that works.

Rarely has a people paid the lavish compliment and taken the subtle revenge of turning its oppressor's speech into sorcery.

[A] final comfort that is small, but not cold: The heart is the only broken instrument that works.

He opened the rock, and the waters gushed out; they ran in the dry places like a river.

No one uses a ribbon typewriter any more, but your final draft is not the time to try to wring a few more sheets out of your inkjet cartridge.