In the country whereto I go I shall not see the face of my friend Nor her hair the color of sunburnt grasses; Together we shall not find The land on whose hills bends the new moon In air traversed of birds. What have I thought of love? I have said, "...
For the first time, with complete clarity and absolute conviction, I know I love him entirely with all that I have, everything I am, and who I’m going to be. Of course, I’ve told him before, but not like this, not with the fierce swelling of love...
Alexandria,” he began, the name lingering on the morning air as though it did not belong amongst trees, but instead somewhere much safer, much more enclosed. “Christian,” she breathed after her name had remained uncomfortably within his ears fo...
The snow filled the air with a soft grey-blue mist, softening the wind and gunfire, bringing the earth and sky together into one swaying blur. The snow fell on Bach's shoulders; it was as though flakes of silence were falling on the still Volga, on t...
Outside, she thought that there ought to be a word for it: the air temperature that was perfectly neither hot nor cold. One degree lower, and she might have felt a faint misgiving about not having brought a jacket. One degree higher, and a skim of sw...
I stand still for a long time, holding the note, and let it all sink in. Her leaving is almost palpable like a gale-force wind that’s rolled into my life in the span of a single evening and left behind all this incalculable destruction, both inside...
Kittridge closed his eyes. So, the end. It would happen instantaneously, a painless departure, quicker than thought. he felt the presence of his body one last time: the taste of air in his lungs, the blood surging in his veins, the drumlike beating o...
You may think that hiding your pain from sight is somehow going to make it disappear. I can tell you from experience that it isn’t. It is just like the time as a kid when you really didn’t want to eat your greens. If you hid them underneath a pie...
Getting shot hurts. Still my fear was growing because no matter how hard I tried to breath it seemed I was getting less & less air. I focused on that tiled ceiling and prayed. But I realized I couldn't ask for Gods help while at the same time I felt ...
This is what is called speaking. I believe that is the term. When words come out, fly into the air, live for a moment, and die. Strange, is it not? I myself have no opinion. No and no again. But still, there are words you will need to have. There are...
Alex Goran: You never called. Ryan Bingham: Well, I wasn't sure what was appropriate. Alex Goran: Appropriate? Ryan, I'm not some waitress you banged in a snowstorm. That word has no place in our vocabulary. I am the woman that you don't have to worr...
Imagine trying to live without air. Now imagine something worse.
Somewhere close behind air and water is the need for food.
There was a feeling on the air like the eve of the end of the world.
Despite living in this post-9/11 age of transnational terrorism, the risk of death during air travel has plummeted to the point where we now measure it in the 'per billions' of passengers.
On July 18, we will mark the 12th anniversary of the senseless loss of 85 lives in the bombing of the Jewish Cultural Center in Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Before dawn, the air smelled of lemons.
Joy recollected is indeed no longer the emotion itself.
A riverless silence made the air heavy.
Mana kapal silam, mana kapal pendjeladjah kita? Padahal tanah air kita adalah negara kepulauan.
The mist hung in the air like a prancing unicorn.
