The sky was like ebony and the only illumination was the harsh white light of the central streetlamp, which cast shadows so hard it seemed you might cut yourself on them.
While my friends struggled and calculated, I reached a solution by a set of floating steps that were partly visual, partly just a feeling for what was right. It was hard to explain how I knew what I knew.
CORNELIA: -Sit down. Don't leave the table. GRACE: -Is that an order? CORNELIA: -I don't give orders to you, I make requests. GRACE: -Sometimes the requests of an employer are hard to distinguish from orders. [She sits down]
David, I’ll fly for you, if you’ll love me!” “Fly, then.” “I can’t fly, but love me anyway.” “Poor wingless child!” “Is it so hard to love me?” “Do you think you are easy, my illusive possession?
No matter how hard they try, they'll never create anything so perfectly beautiful as what plays out in my own imagination.
The moment a person feels he has nothing left to learn is the moment life prepares to hit him hard enough to correct such ignorance.
The first kiss plummeted him down a hole and popped him out into a world he thought he could get along in—as if he’d been pulling hard the wrong way and was now turned around headed downstream.
I realized how truly hard it was, really, to see someone you love change right before your eyes. Not only is it scary, it throws your balance off as well.
Sometimes people are just misunderstood. People and animals. We can’t just assume they are thinking one thing and can avoid temptation. it’s hard as hell to avoid that red flag when it’s waving in your face.
We’re not together anymore. Don’t forget it. There is a pause before he responds. Hard to forget that. The gaping hole in my chest that was left when u ripped my heart out kind of reminds me every time I breathe.
It’s hard to be different,” Scarborough said. “And perhaps the best answer is not to tolerate differences, not even to accept them. But to celebrate them. Maybe then those who are different would feel more loved, and less, well, tolerated.
It's like I have this large black hole in my brain and it's sucking the life out of me. The answers are in there so I sit for hours and stare. No matter how hard and long I look, I only see darkness.
Was I prone to sadness and melancholy? How could anyone like that? It wasn't that I wanted it; it was that I was so used to hard rains, I couldn't help expecting a cloudburst every time something nice happened and sunshine beamed down over me.
You've maddened me for you...have changed everything. So, I'm going to f*ck you long and hard, beauty, because if I'm to be enslaved by you-I want to be your master as well.
Perhaps because it seems so appropriate, I don't notice the rain. It falls in sheets, a blanket of silvery thread rushing to the hard almost-winter ground. Still, I stand without moving at the side of the coffin.
Our whole lives, it was like we were always trying so hard to be perfect - for our families and our friends, for each other - when the funny thing was, we didn't have to. In the end, we were better than that.
[...] But then, What is not vain, by God, in lives of men? All is in vain! We play at blind man's buff Until hard edges break into out path. Man life's is error. Where, then, is relief? In shedding tears or wrestling down my grief?
Nobody cares for getting belittled by a person you’ve had sex with. A person you’ve licked all over. Nobody wants to sit there and get run down too far by somebody who gives them a hard-on.
I sympathize with a mother who has three mouths to feed—especially if two of those mouths are on her face. With a woman like that I’d listen twice as hard for doublespeak. I’m pretty accustomed to picking up on political rhetoric.
It’s hard to hear over the racket of gunfire. Politicians want to talk about war, but the people want to talk about peace.
Her boyfriend can’t hold a candle to me. Especially not while I’m holding the strobe light. It’s hard to do modern dancing when you’re living like it’s 1882. Still, I make it look pretty easy.
