I said the first thing that came into my head unfortunately. "Save the drama for your mama " I told her just like an eleven-year-old.
The truth of course was otherwise, but Lecha had never felt she owed anyone the truth, unless it was truth about their own lives, and then they had to pay her to tell them.
Can you really talk to the dead?" She gave me the look that I was familiar with by now: equal parts derision, skepticism, and curiosity. “How much would it be? I mean, how much do you charge?
But if you want him, you might have to fight for him." I let my head fall to the tabletop. "For the love of all that is dead and Chinese, please, no more fighting. This army needs a break.
Scarlet watched a leaf fall to the ground, lying dead amoung the other leaves on the forest floor. "A brief life seems pointless." Tristan thought for a moment. "Isn't that what life is, though? A brief opportunity to exist? A short gift?
Ros was dead. He had loved heroin more than it loved him. I was shocked beyond imagining; he was the first of my friends to fall.
For books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them.
…the longer I think about it the more it seems to me that we who are still alive are unreal in the eyes of the dead, that only occasionally, in certain lights and atmospheric conditions, do we appear in their field of vision.
Husband-hunting. Always a rousing sport. I suppose you go there dressed to kill." "No, indeed. What good is a dead husband?" She smiled airily. "I go dressed to maim only.
My best friend is dead, and I could have saved her. It’s so wrong so completely and painfully wrong, that I walked through my front door tonight smiling.
She's thirty-four years old. In fifty, sixty years, she'll be dead, and everything reminds her of this fact but him. With Arnie, she imagines she might live forever.
Life is short, but art is long. Sophocles is dead, but Oedipus lives on…Each of us when we read a great piece of literature is a little more human than befor
One of the gravestones in the cemetery near the earliest church has an anchor on it and an hourglass, and the words In Hope. In Hope. Why did they put that above a dead person? Was it the corpse hoping, or those still alive?
If you’re ever in a ghost town, it’s only appropriate to visit the cemetery. Also, ever thought that coffee’s steam is the rising soul of your dead sleep?
Something was wrong with the devices themselves. Digging deep into the internal structure of the circuit boards with powerful microscopes, Simon's team had discovered broken and incorrect connections, electronic dead-ends, short circuits, and nonsens...
My pillow is as good as any ocean to drown in the nightmare of myself. I swam all the way here from the moon.
We have met the Devil of Information Overload and his impish underlings, the computer virus, the busy signal, the dead link, and the PowerPoint presentation.
After Paris, Jacksonville has come to be known as the City of Love. Not right after Paris, like number two on the list, but surely Jacksonville would be included on such a list, even if it ranked dead last.
…“What the hell happened? I keep replaying everything and returning to the point where you held a dead man’s head in your hand and a sharp bloody knife in the other. That wasn’t the Katie I knew from college.
If his drunkenness had legs, it would be Alexander the Great and conquer the known world. Then it would puke for a week into a solid gold toilet it stole from Zeus's guest room.
They can talk shit about each other behind the others' backs, but when it comes down to it, money is the one true race and everyone down here is the color of greenbacks and as tall as mountains.
