We know now that the soul is the body, and the body the soul. They tell us they are different because they want to persuade us that we can keep our souls if we let them make slaves of our bodies.
They're just words. And words alone don't really mean anything. It's what you feel and what you believe when you say them that matter.
Oh, I just think that a neat house is the sign of a boring person, that's all. And I don't really like to associate with boring people if I can help it.
A brick could be used for good, or for evil. The Brick of Creation, or the Brick of Destruction. While you’re deep in thought, contemplating which one you’d rather use, I’ll be over there looting your house.
A brick could be used to keep yourself warm, and a blanket could be used in the construction of a house. But just like wearing your boxers on the outside of your pants, if you reverse them you get further in society.
Make no mistake, Lucas. You chose Pedro over your fellow Hunters. I'm coming for you and you will pay for your betrayal. I'm coming for everyone in that house and no one will survive.
A brick could be used to make yourself taller. It’s like self-esteem, only easier to use in the construction of a house.
A brick could be used to represent a memory. That way when you live in a brick house, you could be living in the past.
People have often told me that one of their strongest childhood memories is the scent of their grandmother's house. I never knew my grandmothers, but I could always count of the Bookmobile.
He started to look at me in a manner I recognized: it was the way I looked at a new book, one I had never read before, one that surprised me with all it had to say.
What I feel is that if one has got to have a murder actually happening in one's house, one might as well enjoy it, if you know what I mean.
The generalizing writer is like the passionate drunk, stumbling into your house mumbling: I know I'm not being clear, exactly, but don't you kind of feel what I'm feeling?
She did not suspect that the Abbess was even there hovering about the house, herself estimating the stresses and watching for the moment when a burden harms and not strengthens.
The man slips along the stoically congealed houses Perpendicular like them A moving ornament Burning fiction His fragility contradicts the duration of his torments
When I moved to London at age 16, tired of the shuffle around other people's houses and ready to live on my own, I met my English brother and sister, who instantly claimed me as family.
My children were taught at an early age how money works and that it comes from hard work. They've been on a commission - not an allowance - since they were little. They learned that if they worked around the house, they got paid. If they didn't work,...
I could always sing, from a really young age, but my voice was really weird. I used to make my mum turn up the radio every day in our house. She was well into music so I got that from her.
When I was born, my parents and my mother's parents planted a dogwood tree in the side yard of the large white house in which we lived throughout my boyhood. This tree I learned quite early, was exactly my age - was, in a sense, me.
If you love somebody, you love them. My parents had a 25-year age gap between them and my mum was the breadwinner, my dad the house husband. I'm a strong believer that a good relationship can work, whatever the situation.
I don't want to be daft and say I had some spiritual awakening or something, but I really did come of age in Los Angeles, where we recorded the album. I had my own little house and my own little circle and I really got to feel how the city ticks.
From a very young age, I suspected there was more to my world than I could see: somewhere in the streets of Istanbul, in a house resembling ours, there lived another Orhan so much like me he could pass for my twin, even my double.
