His angry expression softens, and then he shoves my shoulder playfully. "Hey!" I push him back, to which he retaliates until I'm finally smiling. I love how we can do that--break through the misery to always find each other.
Despite being named Scott, I really like not being named Scott. I make love like I have no idea what my name is or where I’m at or why there’s always one guy in the audience who’s heckling.
I am two Jennifers away from making love to an Emily. It always seems like two people with one name are constantly standing in the way of my dreams. I wish they’d step aside so I could introduce myself.
-Back there our sun doesn't speak. -Where's "there," Miss Marta? -Back there, in Europe. Here, it's different. Here, the sun moans, whispers, shouts. -Surely-I commented delicately-the sun is always the same. - You're wrong. There, the sun is a stone...
Negative self talk costs more than even the richest person can afford. So be nice to yourself whenever possible … and know that it is always possible.
I tell people my name is “The Weather,” and that I understand how they don’t have anything else to talk about besides me. Of course they do have something else to talk about. They could always talk about the weather. But that’s boring and a l...
They say that lightning never strikes in the same place twice, but the same is not true for courage. As it turns out, when courage strikes, it almost always begets more courage.
She had a forehead like a dance floor. You should have seen the way the sun danced on her face in the middle of the night. I never actually saw it because I was always asleep in the middle of the night, but I’ll bet it looked unbelievable.
I have always loved camping, ever since I was eight, and was forcibly stuffed in a trunk and dropped off in the middle of the forest. My dad was a complex man, but I believe he was trying to show me the value of camping.
Sometimes a symbol holds more power than the thing it represents. Like the symbol for Thing, the one I created that is confusing and abstract and makes people ask, What is that thing? And I always reply, “If you already knew, why did you ask?
I don’t look for faces in clouds, I look for clouds in faces. And the best place to look is at the face of my friend, Carl Cumulonimbus, who I nicknamed “Rain Factory,” because he’s always either in a dark and stormy mood, or crying heavily.
Time was something that largely happened to other people; he viewed it in the same way that people on the shore viewed the sea. It was big and it was out there, and sometimes it was an invigorating thing to dip a toe into, but you couldn't live in it...
The Law of God was never a ladder for unsaved people to climb up to heaven. It was always a pattern of life for God’s people who had been saved from judgment by the blood of the Lamb.
The Librarian was not familiar with love, which had always struck him as a bit ethereal and soppy, but kindness, on the other hand, was practical. You knew where you were with kindness, especially if you were holding a pie it had just given you.
God defines himself as "I am who I am", which also means: My being is such that I shall always be present in every moment of becoming.
It took me far too long to realize that lost years and relationships cannot be recovered. That damage done to oneself and others cannot always be put right again.
What I can't understand is why the silly things you say makes so much sense." "I'll tell you why," said Papa Dima. "It's because the best idea is the idea you least expect. And the unexpected always seems silly at first.
She’d never been any kind of camper, never had been good at relieving a full bladder on a whim. Never had quite figured out that squat; it seemed like she’d always wet her right foot.
Nonetheless, love is a funny thing. More specifically, second loves are a funny thing. For no matter how special that second or third or even fourth love is, no matter how much you can’t live without him, the first one always creeps in.
Do not cry for me, Azrael. Do not waste your tears. You made your decision. And this is mine. Sacrifice seems to be my destiny. A funny thing for a selfish man, isn't it? They always called me weak back then...
Laws on killing, even God's demands, didn't allow for peace. Not always. There'd still be pain; missing that child would break her parents' hearts. But what Helen knew, what she'd seen in those woods, would be too much for them, for everybody.
