A drinker does not exist. Whatever they say, it is just the drink talking
Laughter is a powerful weapon for it carries the light. To laugh is to defy the darkness.
Her past is behind her, her future is of little concern. She moves towards the grave, at her own speed.
I am a trembling mess from hip to knee. There is a terrible heat, a looseness in my innards that makes me want to dig my fists between my thighs. It is a confusing feeling - somewhere between diarrhoea and sex - this grief that is almost genital.
Yes you're getting your tattoo." I threw my arms around Dad's neck. "Thank you!" "Hey," Mom said. "I'm the one who had to persuade him it wasn't turning his little girl into a streetwalker." "I never said that," Dad said. "No?" I said. "Cool. Cause I...
This is so cool," I said loudly as Dad walked away. "Have you met the tattoo artist? Is he hot?" "He's a she," Mom said. "Is she hot? Cause I'm still young, you know. My sexual identity isnt fully formed." "Your father can't hear you anymore, Maya." ...
Another night then,' Mom said. 'Maybe on the weekend we can have a barbecue and invite your sister.' 'Or,' I said turning to Rafe, 'if you want to skip the whole awkward meet-the-family social event you could just submit your life story including you...
Chekhov. Well he was a bit of a lad. He had at least two dozen relationships, possibly three; some of them long term; most of the woman wanted to marry him and throughout that time he was still a constant frequenter of brothels. ‘ ‘Mercy. It’s ...
He never wanted children.’ Jessica said. ‘When we married he never mentioned them. I told him Poppy was an accident but she wasn't. I came off the pill. I came off the pill just to see if I could get pregnant and four weeks later l was. I was as ...
I want you to have big dreams, big goals. I want you to strive to achieve them. But I don't want to see you beating yourself up every time you make a mistake.
Here we go again. Always a few drinks, but sometimes even sober, we play the unhappiness game; endlessly round and round. Ding dong. Tighter and tighter. On and on. Push me pull you. Come here and i'll tell you how much i hate you. Hang on a minute w...
He had beautiful manners. Which, if you ask me, was mostly a question of saying nothing, to anyone, ever.
It was completely fifth garde and completely silly and I loved it, because he wasn't afraid to be silly. It was like kissing him first - I could do whatever I wanted and not have to worry what he'd think of me.
Strength without compassion is soulless and cruel. Weakness, too, has its place, for it brings understanding.
