It is better to believe in men too rashly, and regret, than believe too meanly. Men could be more than they are, if they would try for it. He has shown them that.
Saints preserve us,' Dr. Kellen said, and squeezed Galen's shoulder. 'What have we done to our youth?
Pain and guilt tore through him. His soul was bleeding to death. He stood there, waiting to die. How could he not? But such wounds were not fatal.
Great Gates almighty,” HARV said inside my brain. “I go off-line for a few nanos and the whole world goes to DOS.
‘Foo Kyu’ is just a very unfortunate cultural coincidence." "Just think about his poor son, ‘Foo Kyu Two.’
Yeah, but will it hurt?”’ I asked. “This is science, Zach,” Randy said, reassuringly, as he tilted my head back and lowered the lens to my eye. “Of course it will hurt.
His brain and his heart knew this, but he couldn’t stop himself, and the razor of his conscience lent the undeniable thrill of pain to the act.
...men are much softer than women, more sentimental. They cry at the movies and pretend not to. The male of the species is weak. He doesn’t tolerate pain well.
Walking out in the middle of a funeral would be, of course, bad form. So attempting to walk out on one's own was beyond the pale.
But remember. Just because you don't believe in something doesn't mean it isn't real.
Of course mothers and daughters with strong personalities might see the world from very different points of view.
I have saved no one but myself and now I watch for the other universe to unravel in my skull, for the sky to become my own skin and fill with stars.
If you want to see a man come to his senses, try something like, Do you happen to carry a rubber in your wallet? Did I mention I'm not on the pill?
I have a very hard time getting to rage. I always assume that maybe I've done something wrong and then forgotten about it.
Even now, Dickon was upstairs, writing sonnets to his new love, while back at Seadown House, Marianne was writing 'Ella' on scraps of paper and then burning them.
A man wreaks harm because he forgets to love peace. He kills because of self-blinded fear, that imagines no other protection.
The thought of a comedy with paid prostitutes always seemed so silly and purposeless, for a person hired by me could never take the place of my imagination of a 'cruel mistress'.
Nature has made a mistake in the choice of my sexuality and I must do a life-long penance for it, for the moral power to suffer the unavoidable with dignity is lost.
I have also fantasised myself to be his female slave, but this does not suffice, for after all every woman can be the slave of her husband.
Sunrise paints the sky with pinks and the sunset with peaches. Cool to warm. So is the progression from childhood to old age.
Close your eyes and turn your face into the wind. Feel it sweep along your skin in an invisible ocean of exultation. Suddenly, you you are .
