On one level, a roomful of men is always a dangerous thing. Competition is usually in the air, so the potential for violence is always nearby.
...while the stony bones of the world tore past and the air grew dark and howling. The last thing he saw as the gulley became a torrent of dust and rock was the Jeep, plucked backwards into space.
The air in the room was so cold, the exposed flesh of his face felt like ice. "I'll be the first person to get frostbite in a house sleeping several feet from a roaring fire.
Yesterday it was a hundred outside. It was fifty degrees, but the air was saturated with average and smog-like intellect.
He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life. He was alone and young and wilful and wildhearted, alone amid a waste of wild air and brackish waters and the seaharvest of shells and tangle and veiled grey sunlight.
Poetry is Life. We experience poetry from the time we awake each morning and inhale that fresh breath of air. You are living poetry. Poetry is not defined by the laws of man. Inspiration is the key.
Just as a good rain clears the air, a good writing day clears the psyche.
Living as we do in an age of noise and bluster, success is now measured accordingly. We must all be seen, and heard, and on the air.
Only an idiot would trust a Kelpie this close to the water. Getting on its back with the scent of the sea in the air would be a fast, painful means of suicide, and I'm not a fan of pain.
Aunque hiciéramos tantas veces el amor la felicidad tenía que ser otra cosa, algo quizá más triste que esta paz y este placer, un aire como de unicornio o isla, una caída interminable en la inmovilidad.
Love -- not dim and blind but so far-seeing that it can glimpse around corners, around bends and twists and illusion; instead of overlooking faults love sees them to the secret inside.
His voice was low, and I think he would've been hot if he weren't radiating that air of "I Am Super Evil--No, Really--And Not In The Sexy Way.
I wrenched open the windows. I stood while the cold air poured around my face like dark water, as if I was a rock and it was chiselling me into a new shape.
What exists in this heart is not imaginary. This hand would not grasp air in trying to hold you, nor this eye blind itself in searching for you in vain.
But one never finds a cathedral, a wave in a storm, a dancer's leap in the air quite as high as one has been expecting;
I must learn to be as the bear in a cage with the stick that pokes it always, through the bars. The bear acts as if the stick is made of air, and takes no notice of it, even when it is sharpened and draws blood. I must do the same.
As the hours crept by, the afternoon sunlight bleached all the books on the shelves to pale, gilded versions of themselves and warmed the paper and ink inside the covers so that the smell of unread words hung in the air.
Their eyes drifted directly behind her. At the same time she felt the presence of a rather large, imposing figure, then the sudden heat permeated the air around her. He's behind me, isn't he?
There are stories in the air as thick as birds around me, he would say. I will save those stories from starving he would say. I have a great hunger for stories, he would say.
The party was dry, she was wet, and the sky was in the middle (cloudy, but no rain). Love was in the air, and that’s why I brought an umbrella.
There is a special charm to journeys undertaken before daybreak in hot lands: the air is soft and cool and the coming of dawn reveals a landscape fresh from the night dew.
