As I flew back from New Zealand to bury my mother, it occurred to me that no matter how harrowing her loss was and how keenly it will always be felt, there was, nevertheless, a sense of relief that my father, sisters and I could say a final goodbye a...
Avoiding our pain is needlessly exhausting. Pain can not be killed. When we attempt to bury our pain, it rises up from the grave of our emotions, haunting us, until we acknowledge its presence. We can heal our pain when we allow it to move through us...
I loved every minute of my childhood - sunbathing on the fire escape, digging for buried treasure in the back yard, pulling alewives out of the sand... Then it was all taken away from me. I came back every summer to visit my father until I was 18, bu...
[examining one of the gauntlets for his new and improved Batsuit, Bruce presses a button, and the spikes are launched across the room, narrowly missing Fox before they bury themselves in the wall] Lucius Fox: Perhaps you should read the instructions ...
[in Russian, referring to why Augustine never buried her ring] Lista: In case someone should come searching one day. Alex: So they would have something to find. Lista: No, it does not exist for you. You exist for it. You have come because it exists.
Julien à 8 ans: [narrating] But there's one game you must never play. And I mean never! Even if your best friend wants you to! And that's burying yourself in a block of cement!
Rooster Cogburn: We'll sleep here and follow in the morning. Mattie Ross: But we promised to bury the poor soul inside! Rooster Cogburn: Ground's too hard. If them men wanted a decent burial, they should have gotten themselves kilt in summer.
McManus: We gotta bury him. Hockney: With what? McManus: With our hands. [McManus starts digging] Hockney: Oh, this is nuts! It's dry fucking sand, McManus. When he rots the surfers are gonna smell him a mile away! McManus: Dig, you fuck!
The dog leash was still tied tight around the oak tree in the back, stretched worn and limp across the green grass as if trying to escape to freedom; and he buried his wife without a tombstone. Where before, she sat most times in his home, licking he...
Some things are better off forgotten We bury them in places that we really only visit by ourselves Oh you were a version like no other Oh they never tell you what to do when all you see is gone What's the sense in anything when what they say is wrong...
Beheading, burying and burning humans alive are extreme acts of cruelty. Such crimes against humanity must be investigated and the guilty parties brought to justice. May ALL victims rest in peace!
I felt so weak and unhappy that I buried my face in the ground: I could not bear the strain of seeing around me the things of the earth. I felt convinced that every movement and every thought was forced, and that one had to be on one's guard against ...
Cousin Jimmy thinks I did perfectly right. Cousin Jimmy would think I had done perfectly right if I had murdered Andrew and buried him in the Land of Uprightness. It's very nice to have one friend like that, though too many wouldn't be good for you.
We're angry about this, upset about that, but who has the time to do anything anymore? There are those reports to report on, memos to remember, e-mails to deflect or delete. They bury us like snow.
We are like dwarfs standing on the shoulders of giants; thanks to them, we see farther than they. Busying ourselves with the treatises written by the ancients, we take their choice thoughts, buried by age and human neglect, and we raise them, as it w...
In these times where it has seemed dark indeed where integrity appears solely buried in legend and lore, it is an opportunity in contrast to the shadows, to create miracles... by choosing first courage, then diligence, standing, opening our mouth and...
Amy! My God! My God! My darling!' and buried my face in her neck, my arms wrapped tight around her, and let the cameras get their fifteen seconds, and I whispered deep inside her ear, 'You fucking bitch.
A memory, long buried, sprang up of her father warning her never to cross the stream and go into the forest. "The Dragonwood," she mumbled. How could she have forgotten the Dragonwood? Her father had explained that it wasn't their land, and that dang...
They wouldn’t even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal without orders signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, and finally buried i...
What can I do with my happiness? How can I keep it, conceal it, bury it where I may never lose it? I want to kneel as it falls over me like rain, gather it up with lace and silk, and press it over myself again.
'Didn't realize Matty was so scary,' Chris said. 'She's maybe five two and can't make it up a flight of stairs without huffing and puffing. But if I really pissed her off, she might poison my coffee.' 'Sounds like someone I'd like to meet.'
