It starts raining harder, I've got a long way to go walking and pushing that sore leg right along in the gathering rain, no chance no intention whatever of hailing a cab, the whiskey and the Morphine have made me unruffled by the sickness of the pois...
I’m writing a book, one letter at a time. After thirteen days, I just finished writing “Once upon a time.” Since it’s a fairy tale, it’s obviously a romance novel, along the lines of “All Quiet on the Western Front.
Ever since the day I came out of the womb, I’ve had impeccable timing. For example, I somehow managed to be born on the exact day of my birthday. And I wasn’t even trying, though my mother did push me along a bit.
One day Orafoura and I were walking along and I turned and said, "I wish I could capture the weather in a bottle." Without looking at me he said, "You can capture rain in a bottle. Some people call that water.
The moveless man moves along like the mist. The mist doesn’t hide, but all things are hidden in it—including the fog. Love is the only thing that moves the moveless man, and he hasn't the foggiest clue why his eyes get misty when he thinks of her...
We never know how bad we had it, until something better comes along and we get to experience it for a while before reverting back to what we had before. If you’re wondering, yes, I did get back together with an ex girlfriend.
Sometimes I’ll be walking along, thinking, and I’ll kick up some dust and I’ll say, Whoa! That makes sense, and I’ll have just had an epiphany, and then forget all about it because I’ll get distracted by my dirty shoes.
It's hard to maintain a reputation for being grim and mysterious when you're accompanied by a brightly clad young thing, skipping merrily along at your side, holding your hand, and smiling sweetly on one and all.
Other than along certain emotional tangents there was little in the book that felt as if it had actually been lived. It was a fiction produced by someone who knew only fictions, The Tempest as written by isolate Miranda, raised on the romances in her...
Most of us form estimates of our intelligence, wisdom, and moral fiber that are considerably higher than an objective estimate would warrant; no doubt 90 percent of us think ourselves well above average along these lines.
Christ," he said to the tiny reflection of himself that floated along the surface of his coffee, "You have become quite the maudlin sop, haven't you? Laughing softly, he rubbed a hand over his face. Step one on the road back to sanity, stop talking t...
He had only one thing to do and that was what he should think about and he must think it out clearly and take everything as it came along, and not worry. To worry was a bad as to be afraid. It simply made things more difficult.
A hint of sensual frustration roughened his voice. “And I will curse the gods along with them, Min. Some wild monsoon raged through me as I looked at you just now. It’s left me rearranged inside, and I don’t have a map.
As one moves along the evolutionary pathways and one's frequencies become more and more rapid, the old ways of conducting business cease to work or cease to function easily and smoothly. New guidelines are essential.
I’d been listening to men talk since I arrived in New York City. That’s what men like to do. Talk. Profess like experts. When one finally came along who didn’t say much, I listened.
Those who choose to walk on love's path are well served if they have a guide. That guide can enable us to overcome fear if we trust that they will not lead us astray or abandon us along the way.
... the vacuum left by the departing visitor seemed to echo along the hallway and into the walls. It was at those times, when her aloneness took on a darker hue, that she almost wished there would be no more guess, for then there would be no chasm of...
GUIL (quietly): Where we went wrong was getting on a boat. We can move, of course, change direction, rattle about, but our movement is contained within a larger one that carries us along as inexorably as the wind and current…
I really don't know what happened in reference to 'The Butler.' Mr. Daniels and I had a conversation. I had the script, the email that goes along with it in reference to the character, read the script, loved it. Then I never heard from Mr. Daniels ag...
Even the early droplets of selfish decisions suggest a direction. Then the little inflecting rivulets come, merging into small brooks and soon into larger streams; finally one is swept along by a vast river which flows into the “gulf of misery and ...
Somewhere along the journey i lost myself; i learnt to be who they told me to be, i lived that girl for decades until their truth showed me; the words they were preaching didnt match the the steps they were walking, so i was done with their opinion a...
