How could I explain why I'd acted that way? How could I explain how scary it was, to find out that I needed her so much? Was I supposed to tell her how she'd changed everything? Like how U hadn't even realized how bad I felt until she'd made it bette...
I opened my eyes; how could I keep them shut when I could not sleep? The same darkness brooded over me; the same unfathomable black eternity which my thoughts strove against and could not understand. I made the most despairing efforts to find a word ...
She knew it the way people say they know they are about to be hit by lightning, yet remain powerless to run, unable to avoid their fate. She panicked, as anyone might have when disparate parts of her life were about to crash into each other, certain ...
And I've been thinking: if the human race manages to destroy itself, as it often seems to want to do, or if some great disaster comes, as it did for the dinosaurs, then the birds will still manage to survive. When our gardens and fields and farms and...
I wished for death," he whispered, and the words took the smile from both our lips. His gaze met mine again, this time it was earnest and beseeching. "I knew I could not leave you behind, so I planned to kill you first. I could not. I sat here with t...
If someone were to propose that the planets go around the sun because all planet matter has a kind of tendency for movement, a kind of motility, let us call it an ‘oomph,’ this theory could explain a number of other phenomena as well. So this is ...
A kind of joy came upon him, as if borne in on a summer breeze. He dimly recalled that he had been thinking of failure--as if it mattered. It seemed to him now that such thoughts were mean, unworthy of what his life had been. Dim presences gathered a...
On April 18, 1906, when that earthquake hit San Francisco and took David from her, Vivien began to speak the language of grief. She understood that grief is not neat and orderly; it does not follow any rules. Time does not heal it. Rather, time insis...
John Coffey: Poor old Del. Paul Edgecomb: Yeah. Poor old Del. John, you okay...? John Coffey: I could feel it from here. Paul Edgecomb: What do you mean? You could hear it. Is that what you mean? You could hear it. John Coffey: He out of it now, thou...
[looking at the dead Aunt Edna in the back seat] Ellen Griswold: She must have passed away somewhere near Flagstaff. What are we going to do, Clark? Clark Griswald: Well, we could leave her here and the first phone we pass, we could call your Cousin ...
I was working with a Crookes tube covered by a shield of black cardboard. A piece of barium platino-cyanide paper lay on the bench there. I had been passing a current through the tube, and I noticed a peculiar black line across the paper. ... The eff...
I'm not chic, I could never be chic.
An achilles, if it doesn't heal right, there could be a danger of not playing again.
Chris Elliott could read the phonebook and he's funny.
Perfect beauty could be so ugly.
L.A. I could live without.
It could become much worse.
Enthusiasm could not supply the place of experience.
If I wanted to be famous, I could have been famous before.
I was always telling everybody that I could be funny.
My parents could not be more Italian.
