The explorer who will not come back or send back his ships to tell his tale is not an explorer, only an adventurer; and his sons are born in exile.
I wanted to grab his stupid ears and smash his stupid head against the door until his stupid brains leaked out. Instead, I did nothing.
When his wife was at his side, she was also in front of him, marking out the horizon of his life. Now the horizon is empty: the view has changed.
Sin is too great an evil for man to meddle with. His attempts to remove it do but increase it, and his endeavours to approach God in spite of it aggravate his guilt.
His mother stood before him like a monument. He saw her great outline through the blur of his weakness and his passion. She made no movement at all.
Child" said the Voice, "I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.
I put my hand next to his shoulder on the door frame, not touching, but real close. “Look, Blondie. I’m not asking you to bottom, just to fucking navigate.
When Ulysses saw his brother, a wonderful thing happened to his face. All the terror left his eyes, because now he was hom
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.
