To your simple existence, do not boast; merely to breathe or move or think is not to live. The shore of the sea is but a ghost, compared to the depth its wholeness gives. You exist in the miry foam; make the ocean depths your home.
The South: Three-wheeled Piggly Wiggly shopping carts, grease-caked engine blocks, baby strollers with shredded black hoods, Soviet rocket parts, human skulls on spikes and orange-eyed Rottweilers on heavy chains breathing fire...
His lips crashed against hers. If there had been air in her lungs, she wouldn't have known what to do with it. He kissed her fiercely, making her head spin wilder than a whirlpool, knocking every last puff of breath from her body.
How quick, brutal, and fragile is life. You are born, you live a few years in wild hope, then you are dragged back into the night. You might have breathed on a little longer, had you not dared think yourself a human creature instead of an engine of m...
Even this late it happens: the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air. Even this late the bones of the body shine and tom...
We see through the inspired pages that Jesus often stopped His very important, very urgent work, the work He was sent to do, in order to commune with His Father. It appears prayer was as vital to the Son of God as breathing air.
Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, ...
Oh, the comfort — the inexpressible comfort of feeling with a person — having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift...
Kenzie took two staggering steps backward, staring at the feeline as if in a daze. "O-kay," she breathed, shaking her head slightly. "A cat. A cat that talks. I'm going crazy." she glanced at me. " Or you slipped something into my drink at the tourna...
Away with the world’s opinion of you – it’s always unsettled and divided. Away with the pursuits that have occupied the whole of your life – death is going to deliver the verdict in your case. ... It’s only when you’re breathing your last...
V settled back against the pillows and measured the hard line of her chin. "Take off your coat." "Excuse me?" "Take it off." "No." "I want it off." "Then I suggest you hold your breath. Won't affect me in the slightest, but at least the suffocation w...
January took a breath, realizing it had been a cause from her holding it in, trying to work through the puzzle she faced. If he’s a Ghost, why was she sent on a mission to kill him?
the man who succeeds is the man who is able to reduce problems to their simplest terms and who has the courage of his convictions - despite the objections of intellectuals. The courage to speak, perhaps, even when he believes that what he is suggesti...
Peter.' It was the first time I had used his name. 'You heard me sing tonight, did you not?' 'Yes, love.' The endearment took my breath away - made me forget what I meant to say. I stood there with but one thought: He must care about me.
Why not spend that time on art: painting, sculpting, charcoal, pastel, oils? Are words or numbers more important than images? Who decides this? Does algebra move you to tears? Can plural possessives express the feelings in your heart? If you don't le...
Bless you, daugher of man," Carter said, his eyes luminous and almost silver now. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and caught my breath. His lips were both burning hot and icy cold.
You’re not so much of a shmuck after all, Jarry.” “Thanks, PITA. But you tell anyone that I’m going soft, and I’ll deny it with my last breath.” “Would I do that?” Sarah asks with what she attempts to be an innocent expression, and fa...
She had learned, in her life, that time lived inside you. You are time, you breathe time, though she hadn't understood why... Now she held inside her a cacophony of times and lately it drowned out the world.
Writing novels is much the same. You gather up bones and make your gate, but no matter how wonderful the gate might be, that alone doesn't make it a living breathing novel. A story is not something of this world. A real story requires a kind of magic...
Loghain shook his head in disbelief. "Maker's breath, man, aren't you suppose to have some dignity? Somewhere?" "Me? Dignity?" "Being the supposed future King and such." "I think Rowan took my dignity." She snorted derisively, folding her arms. "Ther...
It took him almost a half hour to write a message of only five lines. It took yet another fifteen minutes to delete whatever might be construed as ambiguity, desperation, or references to a history that he no longer had access to. Finally, he took a ...
