One of the the things she most liked about the city -apart from all its obvious attractions, the theatre, the galleries, the exhilarating walks by the river- was that so few people ever asked you personal questions.
Honesty is not a virtue, it is a luxury. Most, who struggle to put bread on the table, face this question every day. And hunger wins this game almost every time, beta (son).
She spoke with the usual cadences of the young: sentences curling upward at the end, all statements fading into a smoky, implied question mark, as though nothing could be said with any reasonable certainty.
So what's the plan?” Ben asked. “Go inside. Look around. Improvise.” “Brilliant." Hi stroked his chin. “Quick question: Is having no plan the same as having a terrible plan, or are those different categories?
If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war.
Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama.
Turn around.” Only two words, but they deliver such a sensual threat. I do as you ask without question. You are right behind me, breathing hard into the small of my neck, where I like to be kissed.
The Church has an excellent appetite. She has swallowed whole countries and the question Has never risen of indigestion. Only the Church . . . can take Ill-gotten goods without stomach-ache!
I know the difference between right and wrong. Right is when I do everything he tells me to. Wrong is when I question why. But every now and then a simple slap across the side of the head is a good way to remind me." - excerpt from: freefalling
On the morning after the daring theft of a priceless James Ensor painting from the Grand Palais in Paris, I was allowed to leave the Les Halles Police Station after only a few hours of questioning.
Why was I chosen?' 'Such questions cannot be answered,' said Gandalf. 'You may be sure that it was not for any merit that others do not possess. But you have been chosen, and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits as you have.
The classical anthropological question, What is man?—"how like an angel, this quintessence of dust!"—is not now asked by anthropologists. Instead, they commence with a chapter on Physical Anthropology and then forget the whole topic and go on to ...
I'm Sorry,' he says. It's simple and direct, with none of the nonsense about God calling home an angel too young and who are we to question his mysterious ways.
My eyes wondered from one end of the mountains to the other. 'Do you think they go on forever?' 'The mountains?' Aritomo said, as though he had been asked that question before. 'They fade away. Like all things.
You may have been too quick to admit the difficulty of a specific task. The question is "how many times have you tried dealing with it"? Don't say it's difficult if you haven't tried it!
Your questions regarding that gentleman are very delicate, very subtle, very much like being smacked in the head with a mallet.
It's not a question of God `sending' us to Hell. In each of us there is something growing up which will of itself be Hell unless it is nipped in the bud.
Betemit's positional flexibility is the same as yours: He can stand around and muse about the great philosophical debates of our day anywhere on the field. Catching and throwing the baseball is an entirely different question.
Every scene should be able to answer three questions: "Who wants what from whom? What happens if they don't get it? Why now?
They can lick you, darling. They can stroke you and suck you and pet you, but they can't have you. The only question now is how many times I'm gonna watch you come before I get my cock in you.
Sometimes life seems like a match between oneself and one's gaolors. The gaolers, of course, are one's mistakes; and the question is, who'll hold out longest? When I think of that, life instead of being too long, seems as short as a winter day....
