...some have asked me what understanding of Nature one shapes from so strange a year? I would answer that one's first appreciation is a sense that creation is still going on, that the creative forces are as great and as active to-day as they have eve...
I recall those beautiful summer mornings with my parents by the sandy beach of Belek. My father used to teach me how to ride waves. I remember him constantly emphasizing the fact that no wave, no matter how big it is should stir enough fear inside me...
But this dagger – this was her first. Her favorite. The same one that had sliced off the boy’s toe on the beach and sent it rolling through the sand.
Meanwhile the Cosmos is rich beyond measure: the total number of stars in the universe is greater than all the grains of sand on all the beaches of the planet Earth.
You know, we queens loathed rain at the beach, small cocks, and reality, I think. In that order.
...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...
Margaux was older and wiser now and knew the waves couldn't fix what was wrong in her life, but at least they might give her some temporary respite.
Moshe was an Israeli with an ear-slitting laugh. He used it in the same way as a madman uses a gun, spraying it around with bewildering randomness.
The water was pure and cold and came out of the Apennines tasting like snow melted in the hands of a pretty girl.
I drink Coke-zero while I score coke from an honors student in Huntington Beach.
It was as if when I looked into his eyes I was standing alone on the edge of the world...on a windswept ocean beach. There was nothing but the soft roar of the waves.
Walk with me to the beach. We need privacy," he said quietly, his voice a seductive whisper against her ear.
Dreams are shores where the ocean of spirit meets the land of matter. Dreams are beaches where the yet-to-be, the once-were, the will-never-be may walk awhile with the still are.
so that the monotonous fall of the waves on the beach, which for the most part beat a measured and soothing tattoo to her thoughts seemed consolingly to repeat over and over again...
Wine?" I asked, ready to order. "I’d rather have Sex on the Beach." He winked at me with a devilish grin.
The ocean drummed as loud as pulsating blood, eroding the sand, rushing the beach as if it had a point to prove. And like many things, it receded, was gone, and was replaced anew.
When he did appear his eyes were as brown as I remembered, pupils flecked with gold like beach pebbles.
You see, in every story, it’s not about the ending. It’s about the chapters in between and how you make it through them
I’m so sunburned I’m embarrassed, but you can’t tell I’m blushing because I’m sunburned. I’m so ashamed I could just lie on the beach and die.
If you think about it, finding true love is a lot like finding a particular grain of sand on the beach.
The Democratic Party went far to the left, I think, and left some of us stranded on the beach, so we went to the Republican Party.
