Meantime the Newspaper of Record goes around in a little pleated skirt shaking pompoms, leaping in the air with an idiot grin if so much as a cement mixer passes by.
It’s always been you, Paige. I’ve waited my whole life for you. You’re the air I breathe, my heart and soul. Without you, I’m in hell.
You want to meet your gods, you filthy cockroaches? Tell the evil sods that Molly Templar says hello when you see them.
I am a believer in free will. If my dog chooses to hate the whole human race except myself, it must be free to do so.
Age, they say, is only important if you're cheese. or a wine. They also say, if you are stuck behind one on a golf course, that a tree is 90 per cent air. How come, then, that you invariably send your ball crashing into the remaining 10 per cent?
It might, too, have been the singular cold that alienated me; for such chilliness was abnormal on so hot a day, and the abnormal always excites aversion, distrust, and fear.
He tossed a word like a ball, never letting it fall. Instead it swam in the air, without care, strung together with an art that came straight from his heart.
Heaven and Earth are meeting in a storm that, when it's over, will leave the air purer and the leaves fertile, but before that happens, houses will be destroyed, centuries- old trees will topple, paradises will be flooded.
Mystique saturates, gluts the air, Adventure’s even more than rare, Excitement’s everywhere to share, And Novelty’s beyond compare.
Rather than words comes the thought of high windows: The sun-comprehending glass, And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.
The zipper on my crotch is an air vent. I need some way to cool down my hot coffee.
When an experiment was to begin, all women were excluded for fear their irrational natures would influence the result, and an air of fervent concentration descended.
To be the other woman is to be a season that is always about to end, when the air is flowered with jasmine and peach, and the weather day after day is flawless, and the forecast is hurricane.
Fire wants to burn Water wants to flow Air wants to rise Earth wants to bind Chaos wants to devour Cal wants to live
The Armenian language cannot be worn out; its boots are stone. Well, certainly, the thick-walled word, the layers of air in the semi-vowels.
I decided that not talking is like a litmus test for a real friend. You can just sit there and be. Not always be filling up the air with words
The sky darkened, the air grew colder, but he didn't mind. It didn't occur to him to move. This was the right place. This was where he had wanted to be.
My feelings for Drew couldn't just disappear. They were ingrained within every fiber of my being, and I needed them just the same as I needed air to breathe.
Finally, the water level topped off, leaving him with no more air to breathe. He drew his last breath and slipped down deep into the darkness that claimed his soul.
Why is it so sexy when hot guys stare each other down like that? Why do I feel like licking the air? Am I ovulating?
He stood there a moment, listened to the creek, and let the mountain air blow against his face. Even with all this heartache, it was beautiful here.
