If magic was present, it moved under the skin of the world, beneath the ability of human eyes to catch sight of it.
Suddenly, a high-pitched sound blasted into the room. The floor began shaking beneath her feet. She paused for a moment, wondering if she was causing this.
Justice was like coloured balls in a magician's hand, changing colour and shape all the time beneath the light of politics.
In a rich moonlit garden, flowers open beneath the eyes of entire nations terrified to acknowledge the simplicity of the beauty of peace.
The stuff of nightmares is not only relegated to unconscious thoughts upon a pillow, safely beneath an eiderdown.
...I make no apology about stirring the depths - every human longs to swim under water and see what lurks beneath ...
Human thought, flying on the trapezes of the star-filled universe, with mathematics stretched beneath, was like an acrobat working with a net but suddenly noticing that in reality there is no net.
But there's no emergency kit for marriage. No neat plan you can turn to when the ground shifts beneath your feet.
Father Sams, a mirthful shaman, looked at a nighted photograph of actress Lar Park Lincoln beneath his glass of bourbon con hielo.
I'll love you until I'm ashes in the dirt beneath the Earth. Then, I'll love you even more.
When you are convinced that everything that happens is the will of God, what is there to do but wait until God has mercy?
How many shots had to be fired to turn this child back to his home and anxious mother?
Something stirred beneath my skin, some being inside I'd only suspected existed, demon or angel, I couldn't say.
I wondered then why children played so in the river, but adults ceased to see it with the same eyes. Why couldn't we embrace such simple joys?
But my lazy lack of faith, my in-vogue atheism, has taken away the safety net hanging beneath our children's lives.
He felt as though the bones of his ribcage were snapping beneath the weight of the stone that God had laid over his heart.
I thought of the new stone, of my new wife, and of the newly buried white bones beneath us, and I felt that fate had made sport of us all.
Alexander the Great slept with 'The Iliad' beneath his pillow. During the waning moon, I cradle Homer’s 'Odyssey' as if it were the sweet body of a woman.
I felt naked beneath the wildness of her eyes. I felt alive. Unknown. And I knew then that the world contained so many things I would never understand.
This is the real power of joy, to make us certain that, beneath all grief, the most fundamental of realities is joy itself.
Give me Pablo Neruda, picnic beneath a full moon & iridescent stars, black olives, cherries, dark things, canoe on a river...that's romance.
