I think it would be funny to dye somebody’s pool red and then throw dead fish in it. And before you run out of there, you could leave a stone tablet with these words etched in: God is angry with you and has decided to go all Egypt on you.
If I wouldn’t have looked under the hood, I’d have never noticed the problem. But as far as I know, the problem didn’t exist before I opened the hood. So did I cause the problem by becoming aware of it, or was it already there regardless of my ...
Nobody can make you feel ignorant but you—the you from before, the one who skipped school and slept in class. By you, of course, I mean me.
She really is a shining star. Imagine how far she's come since she was on the farm in Ohio. She's our Cinderella horse.I can't wait to start riding again.Will my leg work as well as it did before the surgery. What if it doesn't work at all?
The sadness was I'd lost a father I had never fully found. It's like a tune that ends before you've heard it out. Your whole life through you search to catch the strain, and seek the face you've lost in strangers' faces.
it is to be savored like a seabreeze-whispered dream...in the mysterious blue minutes before dawn like a secret infatuation.... like slow languorous sips of green tea... like a lingering glimpse a self-wrapped paradise like his name upon my lips.
Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes. You can’t fool an old sheep like me. To prove it, I’ll tell you that I’ve been continuously voting for the same person for president for years and years, a few of them even before he died.
You graduated 120 years ago? When I graduated I was just one of many in a large stack of love letters. Now get me out of this Time Fridge before I self-cannibalize! I walked a thousand miles to stand still in this moment.
He attacked me, so I had to slit his throat with a steak knife. But not before I splashed Worcestershire sauce all over it.
Memories are strange things. Withough being something I can hold in my hand, they wield a beguiling power over me. Like a mirage in the noontime heat of summer, they dance before my inner eyes and beckon me to find water where there is not water.
As I have pointed out before, characters are not born like people, of woman; they are born of a situation, a sentence, a metaphor containing in a nutshell a basic human possibility that the author thinks no one else has discovered or said something e...
So why are you so mad at me for kissing you?” “Because you took too long. If you'd done that, say, three years ago, we wouldn't have only had one kiss before we both get horribly mutilated.
Sex, like art, can unsettle a soul, can grind a heart in a mortar. Sex, like literature, can sneak the other within one's wall, even if for only a moment, a moment before one immures oneself again.
And lose my cock, balls and prostate? Are you kidding me? Honey, I’m still all man. I’m just a man with decoration,” Tommy had explained before turning with a flounce and practically floating out of the room in his heels.
He slammed the door shut in Ian's face, the lock clicking into place. Ian hit it again with his fist before roaring, “If I were a pervert, I'd be looking for something a damn bit more attractive than you, jackass. And definitely someone that smelle...
For brick and mortar breed filth and crime, With a pulse of evil that throbs and beats; And men are whithered before their prime By the curse paved in with the lanes and streets. And lungs are poisoned and shoulders bowed, In the smothering reek of m...
I am, when you stop to think of it, a member of a fairly select group: the final handful of American novelists who learned to read and write before they learned to eat a daily helping of video bullshit.
I enjoy almost everything. Yet I have some restless searcher in me. Why is there not a discovery in life? Something one can lay hands on and say “This is it”? My depression is a harassed feeling. I’m looking: but that’s not it — that’s no...
They would think she was savoring the taste (blueberries, cinnamon, cream-excellent), but she was actually savoring the whole morning, trying to catch it, pin it down, keep it safe before all those precious moments became yet another memory.
The darkest hour is always just before dawn.” Sometimes in our darkest hour we can feel so hopeless, so rejected, so unloved, unwanted and discarded, but imagine when dawn eventually arrived, how we could shine!!
I might have known,” said Eeyore. “After all, one can’t complain. I have my friends. Somebody spoke to me only yesterday. And was it last week or the week before that Rabbit bumped into me and said ‘Bother!’. The Social Round. Always someth...
