On a Friday night, I like to go out because my friends, who have been working normal hours, just want to let go after a stressful week at work.
Last year, I was on Threat Matrix. We were on Thursday against Friends and Survivor; so this year it's fun to know people are watching, and to know that all of your hard work is not sort of wasted.
I have a few celebrity friends, but I'm really not into the whole Hollywood scene. I like to separate myself from my work. It stresses me out if I do too much of the same.
I didn't want to be the lead guy. That's too much work. But I thought that it might be fun to be the lead guy's friend. I'd have days off, and still get a paycheck every week.
Publishing your work is important. Even if you are giving a piece to some smaller publication for free, you will learn something about your writing. The editor will say something, friends will mention it. You will learn.
When I grew up, I had a lot of fun ski racing with my friends. We pushed each other, and this made it easier to work hard.
A Code of Honor: Never approach a friend's girlfriend or wife with mischief as your goal. There are just too many women in the world to justify that sort of dishonorable behavior. Unless she's really attractive.
Anything I say about women, I try to make sure that at least five or six friends of mine are going through a similar situation. That way I'm not picking on my wife.
It is, I think, harder for women. I haven't quite figured it out, and all of my women friends haven't figured it out -how the hell do you do this? How do you work and have families?
I thought I would try to be gay for a while, but I'm just more sexually attracted to women. But I'm really glad that I found a few gay friends, because it totally saved me from becoming a monk or something.
Most people here agree that the rhetoric got overblown on both sides of the Atlantic before the Iraq war, and it was a disagreement among friends over the timing, not the substance, of the Iraq war.
I have a friend that is a WWII buff, and we sat and talked a lot about stuff like the war and the reasons behind it, and you now it's all in the uniform. Once you're in it, it usually does all the work for you.
Being over seventy is like being engaged in a war. All our friends are going or gone and we survive amongst the dead and the dying as on a battlefield.
She was torn between the impulse to run and the urge to curl up like a pill bug, close her eyes, tuck her head beneath her arms, and play the game of since-I-can't-see-monsters-monsters-can't-see-me.
He did his best to reassure her. He shook his head. “I know. I’m pleased very very much. I’m going to enjoy watching you tonight. I’m going to enjoy watching others covet you.” He pulled her close and kissed her slowly.
So, you take no prisoners, huh?’ Flynn leaned in close. Her pulse clicked up a gear at the deliberate invasion of her personal space. ‘No, sweetie. We take prisoners, of the short, female variety. We just don’t fight fair when we catch ‘em.
A delicate balance is required: keep the penitent tautly close to the point of recognizing sin, and then allow the relief of that pressure to flow through forgiveness. Confession increases this tautness, only to clear the path for release.
One trains the eye of confession most closely on what is hurting. If sin is present it will be aching. Confession begins where the raw anguish of conscience is rubbing against the primordial awareness of God's holiness.
Surely everyone is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a wintry fireside; candles at four o'clock, warm hearthrugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies to the floor, whilst the wind and rain are raging a...
This is one of the most important moments in your life. Nothing will ever be the same. We might get rich. We might get killed. We might just have an adventure or lean something. But we have been changed. We are standing close the Heraclitean fire, fe...
Children were the foot wedged in the closing door, the glimmer of hope that in reincarnation there would be some house to go to, even if one came back as a dog, or a mouse, or flea that lived on the bodies of men. If...there was a raising of the dead...
