Unsure how to answer, I took another grape. Time was no problem for me, but I wasn't eager to hear the long life story of a dwarf. And besides, this was a dream. It could evaporate any moment.
I’m no werewolf, and I’m tired of hearing the word. I’m a Changeling, okay? And either you trust me or we call it quits right here.” It was Travis’s turn to fold his arms, as if he was daring her to convince him.
Lucian was beginning to get used to hearing her small observations at night. More than anything, he realized he liked her voice in the dark. It made him feel less lonely.
You could hear the wind in the leaves, and on that wind traveled the screams of the kids on the playground in the distance, little kids figuring out how to be alive, how to navigate a world that wasn't made for them by navigating a playground that wa...
I know babe" he said, wrapping me in his arms. I could hear the loudly thu-bump of his heart as he picked me up and carried me like a child. And he called me Babe.
East Hollow is full of tormented souls.’ I remark, only to hear his chuckle, his eyes moving forward just in time to step out of the way of a wayward man with armfuls of carrier bags. ‘Now that is the attraction.
When God opens a new page in your life, make photocopies of it, read it and share it with other people. Some may hear it when you read it, others may tear it when you share it.
Never wake up waiting to hear a command from someone before you make a move; be responsible! Never repeat what made you to waste an hour of yesterday; be accountable!
If you can hear time passing it makes the day last longer. I've come to appreciate a long day.
Speaking of grandmas, have you heard the joke about grandparents and WWII? No? Well, if you do, be sure to tell me because I’d like to hear it too.
A list of things you might not hear: eylash opening on the pillow, the appearance of a star, a leaf leaving a tree, a hand in your hair, a lie being withheld, a tear's journey from eye to shoe, air becoming blue, longing.
May you hear my feeble voice! It will tell you that here below there is a heart full of the memory of you.
Reading was my escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for the pure pleasure of it, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you hear an author's words reverberating in your head.
I want to hear one more of your stories Tangle up in your dreams, give up the fight ‘Pour one more glass of that wine And I might not go home tonight...
An acquaintance merely enjoys your company, a fair-weather companion flatters when all is well, a true friend has your best interests at heart and the pluck to tell you what you need to hear.
If you hear a "prominent" economist using the word 'equilibrium,' or 'normal distribution,' do not argue with him; just ignore him, or try to put a rat down his shirt.
Down below people were clipping by going nowhere fast. You could feel the long despairing history of the place. You could actually hear it, a low hum like the buzz of a sick bee that resonated with the fragments of a million broken dreams.
Something strange started to rage inside me, hearing you inhale sharply as I tried to kiss those scars away or etch them deeper into your skin, wanting to mark you in an entirely different way.
Only those who have the great capacity of genuine trust can enter this realm [the realm of the buddhas]. Those who have no trust are unable to accept it, however much they hear it.
. . .criticism is to poetry as air is to a noise: it allows it to be heard; and even if we can't see it or feel it, it is there, shaping how we hear.
I'm looking forward to some more solo acoustic dates. That's a lot of fun for me, because I get to be alone with the song. And I get to hear every little nuance; if my instrument does something that I wasn't expecting, I get to chase that. Chase that...
