Poverty was an ornament on a learned man like a red ribbon on a white horse.
I guess all songs is folk songs. I never heard no horse sing 'em.
Horses teach you patience and how to do things the right way so you can get the right result.
The horse's neck is between the two reins of the bridle, which both meet in the rider's hand.
Think of me as the weathered sheriff coming back into Dodge 'cause the youngsters are shooting up the church and scaring the horses and not doing right by the women.
I am sorry my decisions do not meet with your approval, but nevertheless, they are mine, and the consequences are also mine.
Pam. Listen.' 'The phone is pressed to my ear. Speak.' 'Appius Livius Ocella just dropped in.' 'Fuck a zombie!' - Sookie & Pam, Dead in the Family, Charlaine Harris
Kissing was an extension of that, a celebration. A little party between us, amplifying our naive joy, our faith that the world was delighted to give us just what we wanted.
Do you always try to upset the world as much as possible?" Clare asked. He gave her a surprised look. "Of course. Otherwise how does anything change?
What's the Future? It's a blank sheet of paper, and we draw lines on it, but sometimes our hand is held, and the lines we draw aren't the lines we wanted.
The rain thundered down so heavily that Pritam could imagine that space itself was made of water and was pouring through rents in the sky's tired fabric.
The world needed a little Evil, so Good had something to compare itself to, but you couldn't let it think it had the right-of-way on the road and an invitation to dinner.
Hooters McHoulihan, let's get the fuck out of here. This G-string is so far up my ass, it's making my brain hurt," Jane grumbled
The dead were just the dead, neither awful nor remarkable. History separated out these individuals and preserved their names where others were obilterated for ever.
There are people who will always doubt you and you have to live with it. It only gets a lot worse when you have to die with it!
Your pants didn't get smaller, Mommy," I assured her. "Your butt got bigger.
The stars were only sparks of the fire which devoured us. Should that fire die out one day, there would be nothing left in the sky but dead stars, dead eyes.
The utter unbroken silence was more appalling than any ominous noise, than the loudest yells of anguish, than the most piercing screaming... Dead silence. Literally dead.
Hey, our hair's the same color," I said, eying us side by side in the mirror. "Sure is, girlfriend." Eric grinned at me.
Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission?
She became a story, one I have mostly forgotten. One I can't end because she died a long time ago.
