Idiomatic

by Christos Polydorou

2017-07-02 13.06.36

In my quest for truth.
I was beating around the
bush.

I was barking up the wrong tree.
Either that or I
was

burning the midnight oil.
Biting off more than I could
chew.

I was putting wool over my eyes,
and once in a blue
moon,

a picture would paint a thousand words.
I’d hear all of it, the whole nine
yards.

Straight from the horse’s mouth:
Take it with a grain of
salt.

Taste your own medicine before you give it away.
Don’t count your chickens before the eggs have
hatched.

Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.
Don’t cry over spilt
milk.

In the heat of the moment.
They’ll be a method in your
madness.

Jump on the bandwagon.
Hit the nail on the
head.

2017-07-02 13.03.52

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