The cut under his eye and the split skin on his lower lip only enhanced his profile. He didn’t look defeated. He looked like a fighter. A champion.
The person who tries to live alone will not succeed as a human being. His heart withers if it does not answer another heart. His mind shrinks away if he hears only the echoes of his own thoughts and finds no other inspiration.
I had an amazing childhood, lots of love. But my dad worked his tail off, getting up at 4 in the morning and going off at 5, 6 o'clock, yet he always had time to spend with his kids and his wife.
Former President Bill Clinton, who is widely regarded as a political mastermind, may have sounded like a traditional liberal at the beginning of his term in office. But what ultimately defined his presidency was his amazing pliability on matters of p...
I do not know what the spirit of a philosopher could more wish to be than a good dancer. For the dance is his ideal, also his fine art, finally also the only kind of piety he knows, his 'divine service.'
His gaze lowered to her breasts, scalding her with the intensity of his stare. "At this moment, I'm exceedingly glad I'm no longer a monk.
In his autobiography Stravinsky relates that the first music he remembers was made by a peasant, working his hand in his armpit to produce a rhytmic farting.
With you as an inspiration, a painter will create his best painting, a writer will write his best literature and a poet will create his best poetry.
There are plenty of laws to protect guys' money even in war time but there's nothing on the books says a man's life's his own.
They were home. He always felt a bit like a snail, but instead of carrying his home on his back, he carried it in his arms.
Brandon tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Unbelievable. He had his name. God had given it. Just like Reece said he would.
His hands are behind his back. 'Choose,' he says. 'I've already made my choice,' I say, and I grab the sleeve of his leather jacket and pull him inside.
Sometimes, I wondered if I might speed up his words by grabbing his wrists and finishing his gestures for him.
Joe closed his hand over the watch and it was still warm from his father's pocket, ticking against his palm like a heart.
Friday dusk becomes Friday evening. The park is feverish with life. A young Asian man screams into his mobile phone, not stopping to listen: a young man with his heart in his penis.
He’s a great guy. He’d give you the shirt off his back if you asked. In fact, I’m wearing his shirt now, and I’m staring at his nipples.
Maddock stabbed his fried egg with his fork, and bright yellow yolk bled all over his plate like a sunshine hemorrhage.
He would be able to suffer what his son had suffered. He would be able to suffer and his suffering would for an instance displace his grief.
I do not think that a man's rise to power is necessarily the climax of his life or that his loss of office should be equated with his fall.
His brain and his heart knew this, but he couldn’t stop himself, and the razor of his conscience lent the undeniable thrill of pain to the act.
They had a saying: An Arab loves in the order of: his son, his camel, and his wife - but there were times when one was allowed to take precedence over the other!
