I walked in on my folks doing it doggy style less than four hours ago." "Waitress!" Jonas screamed, clicking his fingers madly. "Bring two!" then, more quietly,"You want a neck massage? A bedtime story? A bullet in the ear?
...the cab of the truck heated up nicely, its windows fogging. I felt like a Dickens character. I thought about explaining that to Mouse, just to occupy my thoughts, but he was suffering enough without being forced to endure Dickens, even by proxy.
What if time's not linear, the way people think it is? What if the past, present and future are all going on at the same time, only they're separated by- oh, I don't know- a kind of gauze or something. And maybe there are people that can see through ...
B looked down the shaft, at a metal ladder and darkness beyond. "Me first?" Of course. You're the apprentice, so you always go first into the unknown. If anyone's going to be eaten by a grue, it should be you." Tough job. But at least the hours are t...
Somehow however just knowing that I could fully expect unhappiness to return – if not predictably then nevertheless reliably – was strangely liberating. The point was that even chaos had a structure a beginning and eventually an end. It was possi...
In her inestimable audacity, Julia was the catalyst in my life for something beautiful. I hadn't anticipated her—hadn't even wanted her, truthfully—but there she was. A little something extra that made all the difference in the world.
... even though it was beautiful and comfortable, and even though it was the world, it was also a little bit boring. No, wait. Maybe boring isn’t the right word. What’s the word I’m wanting here? Lonely. That’s it. It was a little bit lonely.
... it looked at me as it passed, smiling in that crazy-happy way that dogs do. And I started laughing. I mean, how can you not laugh at a dog running on the beach? But I was also kind of crying, too. Laughing and crying simultaneously hurts. It hurt...
Dear Hope, I NEVER thought Id see the day when two of your daily e-mails sandwiched a message from none other than PAUL PARLIPIANO. My crush to end all crushes! Gay man of my dreams! OOOH!
Life is too hard, too much to handle. Nobody told me there’d be days like these. How could nobody tell me there’d be days like these? How could they let me grow up like that—happy and pink and stupid?
Courtesy is a silver lining around the dark clouds of civilization; it is the best part of refinement and in many ways, an art of heroic beauty in the vast gallery of man's cruelty and baseness.
He was your usual man when it came to romance, which is to say he couldn’t recite Baa Baa Black Sheep when sober, whereas when drunk, sixteen cantos of Byron’s Don Juan was par for the course.
Our brains are obviously capable of astoundingly fast and complex calculations that happen subconsciously. We can't explain them because most of the time we hardly even realize they're happening.
He tried to soften his mouth against hers, tried to tell her he was sorry, but she stayed frozen in his arms, as if she couldn't believe, after everything that had happened, that he thought he could break her heart and take a kiss too.
It'll turn out you mean love,' Sholto said. 'At the moment math is the only thing that excites you so you're nosing around numbers as if numbers are life. But in two years you'll be telling me about some boy.
I'm tired of being set upon by crazed Christians one minute and unbridled libertines the next. Girls, I'm going camping.
Em didn't truly understand about my panic attacks - no one did. But she'd never pushed me to explain, never tried to ditch me when things got weird, and never once looked at me like I was a freak.
In our modern age, there are writers who have heaped scorn on the very idea of the primacy of story. I'd rather warm my hands on a sunlit ice floe than try to coax fire from the books they carve from glaciers.
If {Death} comes for you?” he said. “Would you be so sanguine then?” She laughed and the pensiveness was gone. “No indeed. I will curse the stars and go down fighting. But it will still have been a wonderful thing, to cross the mist.
If it’s not clear enough in the piece, I love it when people things to me they know and I’m interested in but don’t yet know. It’s when they explain things to me I know and they don’t that the conversation goes awry.
I felt afraid. No one would know that, not Mother and not Mike. I’d keep the fear pushed down inside of me, and no one would know it was there. “I’m awfully happy,” I wrote. I was. Awfully happy and awfully in love, and tomorrow I was marryin...
