I've always dreamed of having the kind of home we used to have," she said. "I kept waiting for that. I didn't think I'd ever be happy until I had a home like that again. But now, after all that's happened, I realize I can't put all my hopes and dream...
I thought about how the past can become so small. An entire day, 24 separate, heavy hours, becomes the size of a tiny brown leaf falling from a tree. Before you know it, a whole year is just a pile of dead leaves on the ground. The year or so I’d s...
Where were the peacekeepers? Where was the UN? Why was the entire world ignoring Saddam's attack upon his own people? Were we Kurds considered so unworthy, so disposable? I longed to stand at the top of the mountain and shout out, Where are you, worl...
The first time someone I loved left me behind...I didn't know how my family would balance. We had been such a sturdy little end table, four solid legs. I was sure we would now be off-kilter, always unstable. Until one day I looked more closely, and r...
It’s genius simmering, perhaps. I’ll let it simmer, and see what comes of it,” he said, with a secret suspicion all the while that it wasn’t genius, but something far more common. Whatever it was, it simmered to some purpose, for he grew more...
Before I could reply, he had picked me up, literally swept me off my feet, and kissed me. And afterwards, when I tried to speak, he silenced me in much the same manner. It was a shock (but not at all distasteful) to be so caught up. Later - when he a...
But I have to say this in defense of humankind: In no matter what era in history, including the Garden of Eden, everybody just got here. And, except for the Garden of Eden, there were already all these games going on that could make you act crazy, ev...
Two men who had never seen each other before and would not likely see each other again. But their sincerity and sweetness, their sharing an instant in a fleeting life. It was almost as if a secret had passed between them. Was this some kind of love? ...
In mysticism that love of truth which we saw as the beginning of all philosophy leaves the merely intellectual sphere, and takes on the assured aspect of a personal passion. Where the philosopher guesses and argues, the mystic lives and looks; and sp...
I've never regretted it. it? Sure. But never regretted." "Is there a difference?" I ask. "Absolutely. Regret is counterproductive. It's looking back on a past that you can't change. things as they occur can prevent regret in the future. I questioned ...
Why do you want me?" I asked, suppressing the trembling of my voice. "I’m strange, definitely not perfect, and fucked up. Actually, a lot of the latter.” “Perfect is boring and overrated.” He smiled that lopsided grin of his that made my lowe...
For the first time, it struck me that when Denver said he'd be my friend for life, he meant it-for better or for worse. The hell of it was, Mr. Ballantine never wanted a friend, especially a black one. But once Denver committed, he stuck. It reminded...
I think, well, I've had a shit of a life, all things considered. It wasn't fair. Everyone I've ever loved is dead, and my leg hurts all the bloody time... But I think, any God that can do sunsets like that, a different one every night... 'Strewth, we...
My grandmother is dating a grandfather clock, and I’ve started wearing a wristwatch on my ankle. I also wear my love for Agatha like a raincoat, and I am jealous of every umbrella I see.
I made a graph of my emotions, a chart, and when I looked it over I was amazed to notice that the day Agatha broke up with me looked identical to the stock market crash of 1929. I thought I was the Irving Fisher of love.
I believe the love shared between two people shouldn’t be secretly shared with a third. Not even if I am vacationing on the moon, and that third person is my clone.
I applied for your love like a recent MBA grad might apply at Walmart today. I grew a beard on my chest and laughed through my ass just to get your attention.
Agatha had so much love she could fill a room. A room filled with strange men, which she often did. I don’t care if every single man in that room looked exactly like me, they were strangers.
It must be a real betrayal, when your body turns against you. I wonder if she likes flowers. All the bits of you that can go wrong... I don't like flowers, not really. I like growing them, but that's only because I like seeing them blossom, and seein...
Prose Poems from my book SPAN OBSERVATION So, we may not be able to explain the world. Not exactly. But we can accept it, and love it. We can turn our faces to the light and examine the minutest details simply for the sake of it. We can live lives of...
True prayer is only another name for the love of God. Its excellence does not consist in the multitude of our words; for our Father knoweth what things we have need of before we ask Him. The true prayer is that of the heart, and the heart prays only ...
