If you're going to live here, staying civil is as much a duty as sitting the steps or washing dishes. Now, while I bask in the glow of another moral sermon delivered with the precision of a master fencer, hold your applause and let's get back to last...
But, new soldier that I was, I understood at last what Cadus had been trying to tell me all along: that life and love and rank were not enough. To be whole in myself, I needed honour, and I had lost it, and could see no way to get it back.
I feel like I’m going to die,’ he says. ‘Could we talk for a few minutes before you die?’ ‘Only if you do it quietly.’ ‘I met this girl last night. I need your advice.’ ‘Come back later.’ ‘No. You might be dead.
My only advantage as a reporter is that I am so physically small, so temperamentally unobtrusive, and so neurotically inarticulate that people tend to forget that my presence runs counter to their interests. And it always does. That is one last thing...
This is a war," Lemas replied. "It's graphic and unpleasant because it's fought on a tiny scale, at close range; fought with a wastage of innocent life sometimes, I admit. But it's nothing, nothing at all besides other wars - the last or the next.
Just then, down through the last glimmer of twilight, stepping high and free, like a cloud, a moth, a ghost in the shape of a horse — came the Silver Stallion. Wild, beautiful, and free as the wind he came, from one kingdom to another, Thowra
I wanted to see my family, but didn't want to leave the other guys. The people waiting for us were strangers, even though I knew every last one of them.
Whoso would be a man, must be a nonconformist. He who would gather immortal palms must not be hindered by the name of goodness, but must explore it if it be goodness. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind. Absolve you to yourse...
Obsessed with Christine to the end, his last statement as he left his cell was, 'to kill is the final possession'. But Muldowney was wrong. He had never possessed Christine; the resistance burning within her was too great.
Success is not an outcome of coincidence, but rather the tangible result of choice: Comfort or ambition; fleeting pleasure or lasting fulfillment; walking past the open gate, or walking through it.
It’s just snow,” Lesa said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not going to hurt you.” Kimmy smoothed her hands over her blond hair. “Sugar melts.” “Yeah, and shit floats.” Lesa took her seat, yanking out last night’s English homework.
Plus, you're the last Dragomir. You're always going to be in the spotlight. Who’s she? Just another Ivashkov. There are tons of them.' 'Probably because all the guys like Adrian and have all sorts of illegitimate children.' 'Adrian doesn’t have a...
It was peaceful, the air crisp; flocks of geese and wild ducks roamed through grassland down by the water. For a moment my heart leapt, and I saw a future for myself. I was alone, and free at last, amongst the birds and trees, from earth to sky.
If there is such a thing as a universal--and I wasn't ready to throw all of mine out the window--it's that there is power in a story. And if someone pays you such a kindness as to make up a tale so you'll enjoy a gingersnap, you go along with that st...
We don’t necessarily need to know each other’s name, age, profession, drug of choice, childhood trauma or recent tragedy to understand what pain feels like and offer comfort. We are strangers drawn together by a shared desire for lasting peace.
My last two girlfriends were named Anna, though the second one spelled her name backwards. So instead of Anna, it was spelled Anna, and that's how I came to tell the two apart.
And then I feel the sun itself as it blazes over the hills, like a million flowers on fire -- clearly I'm not needed, yet I feel myself turning into something of inexplicable value. -from The Buddha's Last Instruction
Over the last forty years, many educators, decision-makers, and even some parents have come to regard the arts as peripheral, and let’s face it, frivolous—especially the visual arts, with their connotation of ”the starving artist” and the mis...
I'd never seen anything more beautiful -even as I ran, gasping and screaming, I could appreciate that. And the last seven months meant nothing. And it did not matter if he did not want me, I would never want anything but him, no matter how long I liv...
I wondered how long it could last. Maybe someday, years from now.If the pain would decrease to the point where I could bear it.I would be able to look back on those few short months that would always be the best of my life.
Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are ke...
