The philosophers of the Middle Ages demonstrated both that the Earth did not exist and also that it was flat. Today they are still arguing about whether the world exists, but they no longer dispute about whether it is flat.
Anthony imagined a time before all that - a time when people sipped Earl Grey tea on a breeze cooled veranda and looked out upon endless countryside.
History. Language. Passion. Custom. All these things determine what men say, think, and do. These are the hidden puppet-strings from which all men hang.
If I had to choose a moment in time when I knew my life would be different going forward—when I knew I would be different—this would be it.
He caught her staring and smiled-not a conceited I-work-out-and-have-a-great-body type smirk, but more of a I’m-a-boy; you’re-a-girl; life is good.
Use your safe word if you get scared, honey.” “I’m fine.” Her voice came out husky. “Yes, you are, aren’t you?
All that spring and summer, there were times when she felt as if she had no joints or muscles, no physical means with which to move about the world.
Knowing that this is what it means to live. That this love, this need is what drives us to push and fight and build and grow. That as long as there's hope and love in this world, there will always be the living.
I denied Discordia and regret nothing; I have spat into the bodiless eyes of the Crimson King and rejoice; I threw my lot with the gunslinger and the White and never once questioned the choice.
Free at last, he thought. Great God Almighty, I'm free at last. Then: I believe this is redemption. And it's good, isn't it? Quite good, indeed.
There's no poetry in me, Reginleit. No fine words." He stared down at her, his gaze seeming to consume her. "I come to you as a man unfinished.
No ale for the girl, Birgit," Aidan said to the woman. "Do we not have milk?" Regin's face heated. And all the worse, because she would dearly love some milk.
She gazed around with a bored air. "This feels just like . But shouldn't you lawyer up before I throw the book at you? No? So what's in the IV bag?
There was that sound again--snap, then a footfall. She tried to whirl around as a dark form--Dear God--sprang with a splash from the darkness--grabbed her from behind, shoved her under the water.
Twas something else. I had come to hate her, you see. I had come to wish her dead, and that was what held me back.
If God rewards us on earth for good deeds—the Old Testament suggests it’s so, and the Puritans certainly believed it—then maybe Satan rewards us for evil ones.
He supposed that even in Hell, people got an occasional sip of water, if only so they could appreciate the full horror of unrequited thirst when it set in again.
When you look up/ Do you see the blue sky of what might be / Or the darkness of what will never be? / Do you see me? Kami Garcia/Margaret Stohl
Why people wanted to dance whenever it got dark was beyond him. Somehow, the two seemed to go together, like bees and flowers, or flies and dung. Darkness and dancing.
It was as if the city itself was preparing for some impending catastrophe. There had always been talks of ghost and darkness here, even in his boyhood, and now that darkness seems to be seeping from the stones and timbers as much as it was descending...
Brains will always conquer brawn, in the end. The soldiers can flex their muscles all they want, but the well-thought-out tactics of the generals are what win the war.
