Begin your new year by making a commitment to yourself. Rediscover your passion. What sets your heart on fire? And do something about it. Take action. Today. Now.
Why is it we want so badly to memorialize ourselves? Even while we're still alive. We wish to assert our existence, like dogs peeing on fire hydrants.
The dividing line forms-fashioned from: Dragon's tears Missed years Overcome fears The fire and ice paradox Seen with True Sight Darkness does not always equate to evil Light does not always bring good
Everyone burns, as the Buddha says, in their own way. Some burn with anger, some with lust, some with a desire for vengeance, some with fear. But inside us burn many fires, not just one. We are legion, we contain a multitude.
I didn’t fire my gun. I gave it a promotion.
There are betrayals in war that are childlike compared with our human betrayals during peace. The new lovers enter the habits of the other. Things are smashed, revealed in a new light. This is done with nervous or tender sentences, although the heart...
I am a fireball of emotions and impulses; my zest for life is unquenchable. And I am either of only two things: Fire or Ice.
It was the kind of building that remembered things, deep-down things, things that rode tears into the world, telling them back to anyone old enough or wise enough to know how to listen with their eyes.
I better understood the little lies that liquor told, lifting spirits and drowning sorrows while withholding the whole truth--that, in the end, it is the spirit in peril of drowning. Sorrows have gills.
I don't know how to describe the sound of a world crashing. Maybe there is no sound, just a great emptiness, an enveloping sorrow, a creeping nothingness that coils itself around you like a stiff wire.
Being on the moon is about harnessing science and technology. Waveless waterbeds are about harnessing nature and that, by definition, is not natural,” I shot back. “Babe, you’re not lyin’ on a miracle,” he said through a lip twitch. “No, ...
Thousands of years ago the first man discovered how to make fire. He was probably burnt at the stake he'd taught his brothers to light, but he left them a gift they had not conceived and he lifted darkness from the face of the Earth.
What’s it like, for you to sense me?” she asked. Her eyes were wide now, emerald green in the lamplight and peering into Héyowan. He blushed, taken off guard. ‘Like I’m not alone,’ he almost said.
She murmured, “I love the imagery of Sappho, the warm summer air across the velvety darkness, the lover between love’s thighs.” She stayed quiet a moment. “But it takes a man’s kiss to put the fire to the metaphor.
Who set Rome on fire? The man we must admire. For killing his wife, and taking the life of mother and brother and so many others, while plucking his damnable lyre.
I expected you to look... content, happy even, after your alone time with Sammi, not all mopey and depressed. You didn't screw up, did you? Don't all Kings make love perfectly?
Sammi watched him walk toward her. He walked like a predator, a conqueror. A king who ruled and commanded all. He was sex and sin, decadence and sensuality. He was, simply put, spectacular.
The thing is', (Rufus) Stone said, 'that if you don't believe that you are an old man, or a woman, or a tramp, then how can you expect anyone else to believe you? Looking the part is just the surface; being the part is the true disguise.
Bathrooms that traded mirrors for glass walls invited prurience on occasion, but they also drew the inhabitant's gaze away from himself toward an increasingly threatened nature.
In the war room, love? What if someone comes in?” I stood and removed his shirt. “Then they’ll have a good story to tell.” “Good?” He adopted the pretense of being offended. “Prove me wrong.
What do I care, in the dreams and the languor of spring, That my songs do not show me at all? For they are a fragrance, and I am a flint and a fire, I am an answer, they are only a call
