run of the mill

In order for you to fully assimilate life’s teachings—the ones that are neatly encapsulated in one-liners so as to save you the toil of peeling off meaning of Rushdie-esque paragraphs—you must learn painful lessons first. And one of them is that you’re just run of the mill. Proof of that? If any vestiges of a maverick were hidden in you, the years gone by should’ve sucked them out for public perusal. But they haven’t. So, there it stands. You’re run of the mill.

jaunty collar bones

Her fate was in her body, not in the stars. It resided somewhere in the sheen of her face, her jaunty collar bones, her full lips. She had thrown her horoscope away many seasons ago, and had invested energy in preening herself.