How could none of them comprehend the beauty of a human soul,shining in heaven for eternity? Where it would be whole again, as they all had been once in times past?
Fate refuses to stop at the pretty part of the tale; Fate insists on more tests of courage and wit, a terrible end, even if the heroine's heart be pure and her crime accidental.
How Many Lumberjacks Does it Take to Ravish, Maim and Kill Five Feisty Female Co-eds? Read 'Lumberjacked' by Rich Bottles Jr. to find out! Lumberjacked: A Supernatural Tale of Murder and Mayhem in the Mountain State.
We live in our tales of ourselves, she thought, and ignore as best we can the contradictions, and the lapses, and the abrasions of plot against our mortal souls...
I don't remember everything that happened, and I'm looking forward to the tale. But I know, I feel, that it was good. Even if I did die. It was a damn excellent dream.
I discovered the miracle that all things that sound are music, including the dishes and silverware in the dishwasher, as long as they fulfill the illusion of showing us where life is heading.
We might give her presents, tell some tales, but would she ever be able to really understand what the journey had been like for us?
Most memoirs about alcoholism, promiscuity, and addiction are deep, sobering tales full of scars that will never heal and include alarming statistics and reflection about recovery. This is not one of those memoirs.
I was born to catch dragons in their dens / And pick flowers / To tell tales and laugh away the morning / To drift and dream like a lazy stream / And walk barefoot across sunshine days.
You bound him to you with your courage and your tales. You hold him to you now. You captured a wild creature when you had no place you could keep him.
A daughter,' Rowley scooped up the child and held her high. The baby blinked from sleep and crowed with him. 'Any fool can have a son,' he said. 'It takes a man to conceive a daughter.
Often tales of valiant deeds lighten the heart," said Brandegan. "They give hope, for they remind us that not all forces in the world work wickedness.
The person one loves never really exists, but is a projection focused through the lens of the mind onto whatever screen it fits with least distortion.
The teeth!—the teeth!—they were here, and there, and everywhere, and visibly and palpably before me; long, narrow, and excessively white, with the pale lips writhing about them, as in the very moment of their first terrible development.
The soul, they say, is divine and the flesh is iniquity. But I am a musician and I ask this - without the wood and the strings of the violin, where would the sonata find form?
I’ve supped on potatoes and groats and am waiting to be sick. How about you? I supped like the Lord in Heaven.’ and what does the Lord in Heaven have for supper?’ Nothing.
I LOVE YOU Don't just 'think' it. Say it before it's too late - The burden of regret is a heavy cross to bear
Something else is hurting you - that’s why you need pot or whiskey, or whips and rubber suits, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can’t think.
He was the owner of the moonlight on the ground, he fell in love with the most beautiful of the trees, he made wreaths of leaves and strung them around his neck.
So we fell asleep holding hands. If married couples got to do this all the time, shit if I could understand how there were ever divorces, or even fights.
I always wondered why the makers leave housekeeping and cooking out of their tales. Isn't it what all the great wars and battles are fought for -- so that at day's end a family may eat together in a peaceful house?
