Then he was sorry for the great fish... How many people will he feed?.. But are they worthy to eat him? No, of course, not. There is no one worthy of eating him from the manner of his behavior and his great dignity.
There were moments, of course. Those small spaces in time, too soon gone, when everything seems to stand still, and existence is balanced on a perfect point, like the moment of change between the dark and the light, and when both and neither surround...
And, of course, there are the perfect day, perfect moment, perfect life dreams that come sometimes and make a person hit the snooze button for hours, trying to go back to sleep and make the perfect moments last.
, I told myself, watching them walk up to the pavilion. But in spite of that wise warning, I climbed out of the boat. , I told myself. But of course, I followed them. , I scolded myself, even as I tiptoed after them.
We do not require company. In varying degrees, it bores us, drains us, makes our eyes glaze over. Overcomes us like a steamroller. Of course, the rest of the world doesn't understand.
The face of the dead man was concealed, of course, our customs not being those of the south, where corpses are carried to the grave in open coffins, that they might – one last time before slipping into the pit – be warmed by the light of the sun.
I was trying to foment a little dissension.' He paused. 'No, that's too flippant. How about trying to make the system less warlike—injecting a little love?' He snorted. 'Through violence, of course, like all religious reformers.
The formal definition of impact is a forcible contact between two things, and God has designed our lives for a collision course with the world.
I’d give up three days just to get three hours with the woman I love. Of course this instinct is the reason why my investment decisions always look so great—for the people on the other ends of the trades.
If I met a man who had eleven sons, the first thing I’d ask is, Are they all yours? And of course the next question I’d ask is, which one plays quarterback and which one is the best receiver?
I’m sure all of that’s true. Especially the anal bit--Marshall’s always been an ass--but I don’t see how this is relevant, unless of course I’m mistaken, and you really are comparing me to a crumb that needs sweeping. - Shella
Till her appointed course be run; Till on the darkness faint her breath Flown to the silent void, and Death Sit crowned upon the ashen sun. (“The Testimony of the Suns”)
The moment I heard her name I fell in love. Of course I fell in love with the wrong name, so I made her legally change her name to match that of my love interest.
There was something pathetic about the rejected wife bravely pulling herself together, joining a tennis club, doing a photography course, cutting her hair, venturing timidly back out onto the single scene.
Our whole family thrives under pressure. It's like our family motto or something. Apart from my brother Peter, of course. He had a nervous break down. But the rest of us.
I know what other people think about me,” Rusty told her. “ ‘That Rusty,’ they say. ‘Charming and handsome,’ they say first, of course—they’re not blind. Then they add, ‘All the ambition and drive of a chocolate sundae.’
I knew she was right. Of course she was right. Bex was always right. She knew me better than I knew myself. But then again, isn't that a best friend's job?
I wasn’t sure anymore what made a good marriage. There had to be love, of course, but there were so many different kinds of love. And clearly, some love was more enduring than others.
Blood drummed in her ears and adrenaline coursed through her veins, driving her to move. To act. Her hands trembled against his chest. Time vanished out from beneath her feet, one accelerating second at a time.
You’re here.” Of course I am, where else would I be? I thought…well, I wasn’t sure if this was our dream or just mine. It’s ours, Livvie, it’s ours. Always ours.
Money had no name, of course. And if it did have a name, it would no longer be money. What gave money its true meaning was its dark-night namelessness, its breathtaking interchangeability.
