...I felt the wall between the world of secrets and the real world start to collapse. I felt the girls from the portrait becoming us and us becoming them...
Never! while heaven spares my reason,’ replied I, snatching away the hand he had presumed to seize and press between his own.
I was born on the night of Samhain, when the barrier between the worlds is whisper-thin and when magic, old magic, sings its heady and sweet song to anyone who cares to hear it.
There is a pivotal point in every interaction between humans which sets the course in their relationship. Do you hide or do you shine? Which way are you going to go? Hide or shine?
The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one’s real and one’s declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink.
What unhappy beings men are! They constantly waver between false hopes and silly fears, and instead of relying on reason they create monsters to frighten themselves with, and phantoms which lead them astray.
You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.
It is not so much the grand dramas of our lives that transform us as it is the tiny one-acts we produce in between.
That's what nobody realizes. Two seconds are huge. It's the difference between something happening and something not happening. You could take one step too many and fall over the edge of a cliff. It's very dangerous.
Story is the umbilical cord that connects us to the past, present, and future. Family. Story is a relationship between the teller and the listener, a responsibility. . . . Story is an affirmation of our ties to one another.
The snow was too light to stay, the ground too warm to keep it. And the strange spring snow fell only in that golden moment of dawn, the turning of the page between night and day.
The most important reason for going from one place to another is to see what's in between, and they took great pleasure in doing just that.
What if evil doesn't really exist? What if evil is something dreamed up by man, and there is nothing to struggle against except out own limitations? The constant battle between our will, our desires, and our choices?
The missed call and call back drama between men and women deserves its own user mannual.
Dios mio, I think my brother lost his balls somewhere between here and Mexico. Or maybe Brittany has them zipped inside that fancy purse (of hers).
Most New Yorkers spent their lives somewhere between the fruit cart and the fifth floor. To see the city from a few hundred feet above the riffraff was pretty celestial. We gave the moment its due.
Soul mates, I've always believed in, so I accepted the truth there. But curses? That was extreme. There had to be a place where the line was drawn between fiction and reality, and a curse sounded way more on the fiction side of the spectrum.
The great source of both the misery and disorders of human life, seems to arise from over-rating the difference between one permanent situation and another...
I’m in the middle between a pessimist and an optimist. I take full responsibility for the glass half full. Well, I take half-full responsibility. But if it were full of beer, I’d take full responsibility.
My love life is modeled after being muddled. I have a relationship like the one between you and your elected official—and your elected official and the lobbyists.
In a battle between two ideas, the best one doesn't necessarily win. No, the idea that wins is the one with the most fearless heretic behind it.
