These things are hard to pin down. We work on a script a bit, then work on a different one.
I suppose because I do and can work in the theatre, I don't see work as closing down as an older woman.
Objects can be classified scientifically into three major categories: those that don't work, those that break down and those that get lost.
The poorest and most backward societies are always those that put women down.
Women were quite terrifying until I was older. I think that's partly down to confidence.
I tend to go for women with common sense. Being down to earth stands out more than looks.
When you are old and grey and full of sleep And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with...
I must have passed the crest a while ago And now I am going down-- Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know, But the brambles were always grabbing at the hem of my gown. All the morning I thought how proud I should be To stand there straight...
Then she is on me. Her soft, hot body collapses onto my own ravenous frame. She pushes my legs open with her knees and pulls my arms above my head with her hands, holding me a willing hostage. For one long moment we are eye to eye. Her breasts press ...
Then his fingers trembled on her ankle—tightened around her foot. His head shifted, turning toward her. With a growl, she crashed the poker down onto his head. His hand jerked. A gurgling noise arose, not from his throat but from his chest, from de...
Fuck,” he murmured, his gaze tracking over her exposed chest and torso. “I was going to say this is going too fast.” “You sure about that?” she murmured. “I don’t want to take advantage,” he continued, his voice strained as he sat up,...
Fireheart tensed, waiting for whatever had hunted down these apprentices to emerge from the trees and attack, but nothing stirred. Feeling as if his legs hardly belonged to him, he sprang down and stumbled across to Swiftpaw. The apprentice lay on hi...
Last night I thought about all the kerosene I've used in the past ten years. And I thought about books. And for the first time I realized that a man was behind each one of the books. A man had to think them up. A man had to take a long time to put th...
Dove held out a hand to Johnson, and he took it—not because they were fleeing a fire and not because she was holding a million dollars. He took her hand to wrap his fingers around hers. His long, long fingers. Her knees went a little watery. Johnso...
One swing set, well worn but structurally sound, seeks new home. Make memories with your kid or kids so that someday he or she or they will look into the backyard and feel the ache of sentimentality as desperately as I did this afternoon. It's all fr...
Okay, on my first night, he tried to chat me up. You know how the story goes. ‘You have the most beautiful eyes, I’m very rich, want to see my bedroom?’ Blah, blah, blah.” “And because you turned him down, he’s more determined than ever,�...
"What?" "What?" Dylan asked back. "You just said my name." "No I didn't" I sat up, banging my head on the roof. "Who is that?" "Hey, stay down here where the air is good, okay?" Dylan pulled me gently back down. "Hows your head?" "Not good, I think."...
Did I do and say these things? Yes, I did. Are there any mitigating circumstances? Not really, unless any circumstances {in other words, context) can be regarded as mitigating. And before you judge, although you have probably already done so, go away...
Maybe Lindsay and I are best friends and we hate each other, both. Maybe I’m only one math class away from being a slut like Anna Cartullo. Maybe I am like her, deep down. Maybe we all are: just one lunch period away from eating alone in the bathro...
For God's sakes, quit worrying about your next job. Just do the best you can at the job you have now, and the offers will come. And when they do, if you have confidence in yourself you don't have to feel that you can't turn it down if it isn't quite ...
Dear Natasha, It's the middle of the night. I can't sleep. Thoughts are creeping through my head like darkness slips around the bodies of sky scrapers in every city we've ever been to. From the bottom up, suffocating the life on the street first and ...
