My fingers gripped his sweaty T-shirt. I kept kissing Eagan until he groaned softly in his sleep. “I love you,” I murmured against his lips. I moved away from him. I forced myself to stand, I grabbed my guitar case and I left. On the bus, I kept ...
It’s funny, Matt, everyone thinks Roman’s a nickname--but it’s not, it's just my name. We've got military names way back in our clan. I've got Great-Granddad Grant and Great Uncle Sherman and Uncle MacArthur and Cousin Audie and Cousin Achilles...
[first lines] Passerby: Well, I want to go over to my place and start, you know, getting it on... Ann: Oh, that's terrible. Mark: Yeah. Do you ever, uh... ballet? Ann: Be thankful. Do you have a quarter for them? Mark: Yes, I do. Ann: [gives it to st...
I put my hand on his arm. "You know, Drew was exaggerating. I'm a nice person. Most of the time." Jake raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile on his lips. "So, you didn't really slap a guy in the middle of someone's wedding?" I bit my lip. "Technical...
We'll choose knowledge no matter what, we'll maim ourselves in the process, we'll stick our hands into the flames for it if necessary. Curiosity is not our only motive; love or grief or despair or hatred is what drives us on. We'll spy relentlessly o...
You could be David's friend too". She glanced at Tamani when he said nothing. He was frowning. "The two of you really have a lot in common, and we're all in this together". He shook his head. "It wouldn't work". "Why not? He's a nice guy. And it woul...
As far as you are able to gather from hints scattered through these letters, Apocryphal Power, riven by internecine battles and eluding the control of its founder, Ermes Marana, has broken into two groups: a sect of enlightened followers of the Archa...
Do you know why I believe in the novel? It’s a democratic shout. Anybody can write a great novel, one great novel, almost any amateur off the street. I believe this, George. Some nameless drudge, some desperado with barely a nurtured dream can sit ...
A politician is not allowed to get too emotional in public, so what he does is drop subtle hints that, over time, cause the public to get emotional. Once the same emotions are generated by enough people, the politician can use it to steer the public ...
There was a problem: No one cared about human rights anymore, not at home or abroad. They cared about growth--hoped for and celebrated in all the newspapers, invoked by zealous bureaucrats in every self-serving television interview. On this matter, t...
Atmosphere, not action, is the great desideratum of weird fiction. Indeed, all that a wonder story can ever be is a vivid picture of a certain type of human mood. The moment it tries to be anything else it becomes cheap, puerile, and unconvincing. Pr...
When I Read the Book" When I read the book, the biography famous, And is this then (said I) what the author calls a man's life? And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life? (As if any man really knew aught of my life, Why even I myself...
We—all of us—want to feel special. We want to feel the glory that shines on us when we reach beyond our boundaries to grab at something greater, to live a heroic life, if only for a day or a week or a moment. This simple yearning is in us all, ha...
I would see him, Edward.' It was no request; he knew it to be an ultimatum. He shook his head violently, not trusting his voice. Time passed. She was staring at him, saying nothing, and on her face was a look of stunned disbelief, of anguished accusa...
I felt that these celestial hues indicated the presence of exquisite creatures who had been pleased to assume vegetable form, who, through the disguise which covered their firm and edible flesh, allowed me to discern in this radiance of earliest dawn...
[first lines] Narrator: For more than a year, ominous rumors had been privately circulating among high-level Western leaders that the Soviet Union had been at work on what was darkly hinted to be the ultimate weapon: a doomsday device. Intelligence s...
Hiro: Wow, that's a whole lot of tungsten carbide. Honey Lemon: Five hundred *pounds* of it! C'mere c'mere c'mere, you're gonna *love* this! A dash of perchloric acid, a smidgen of cobalt, a hint of hydrogen peroxide, SUPER HEATED TO FIVE HUNDRED KEL...
Chris: I tell y'all where y'all need to go, where they got more women than anywhere. Violence too. Monster: Crenshaw Sunday Nights? Chris: no. Doughboy: Street racers on Florence? Chris: Nah, nigga, y'all way off! Chris: I give y'all a hint: Everybod...
Chris: I tell you where y'all need to go, where they got more women than anywhere, fine ones too. Monster: Crenshaw on Sunday Nights? Chris: Nope. Doughboy: Street racers on Flourence? Chris: Nah, nigga, y'all way off! Chris: I give y'all a hint: Eve...
You'd have thought we planned it," says Peeta, giving me just the hint of a smile. "Didn't you?" asks Portia. Her fingers press her eyelids closed as if she's warding off a very bright light. "No," I say looking at Peeta with a new sense of apreciati...
Jenny Marzen made millions of dollars, as opposed to nickels, by writing novels that got seriously reviewed while selling big. Amy had skimmed her first one, a mildly clever thing about a philosophy professor who discovers her husband is cheating on ...
