Aaron's therapist calls him a wounded bird, but, I ask you, who wouldn't care for a wounded bird? What kind of person sees a bird with a broken wing, cat on the horizon, and walks on by?
But you know what? Peace is just an idea. There will never be peace on Earth, at least, not the kind of kumbaya-harmony people envision. There can be ceasefires and treaties, but we will never know true peace. That's the sad truth of the world.
Let him who glories glory in this, That he understands and knows Me, That I am the LORD, exercising loving kindness, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these I delight,” says the LORD.
She’s the kind of woman where if you give her an inch, she’ll take the whole penis. She took all I had, and she didn’t even take me out to coffee.
What other thing, Eve?" "I love you. Sometimes it makes my stomach hurt, but I kind of like it. Tired now, come to bed. Love you.
She’s the kind of woman I could see myself spending the rest of my life with—after I turn 99.
When you’re late in a fairy tale, people wind up dead. And not true-love’s-kiss, glass-coffin-nap-time dead. Really dead, the kind of dead you don’t recover from.
For real men serve their country with random acts of kindness, not vicious acts of violence. And real soldiers have one duty, and one duty only; they have a duty to mutiny!
The same way a compact disk isn't responsible for what's recorded on it, that's how we are. You're about as free to act as a programmed computer. You're about as one-of-a-kind as a dollar bill
Fiction that adds up, that suggests a "logical consistency," or an explanation of some kind, is surely second-rate fiction; for the truth of life is its mystery.
That is just what life is when it is beautiful and happy - a game! Naturally, one can also do all kinds of other things with it, make a duty of it, or a battleground, or a prison, but that does not make it any prettier...
Thank you, Mr. Rochester, for your great kindness. I am strangely glad to get back again to you: and wherever you are is my home—my only home.
[Nessa] didn’t know how to disagree with a preacher, or if she was even allowed to, so she merely wrote, “Thank you, anyway, kind sir, but I am not going to marry you.
That's not me talking, it's your inner voice. I'd attempt the accent, only I don't speak low self-esteem. It's a language I've never needed to learn.
Any requests on the kind of car?” “Something with armor?” she said. “Oooh, and headrest DVD. Bonus for surround sound.” “Rocket launchers,” Michael said. “One hot yellow Hummer with optional mass destruction package, coming up.
Biographers rue the destruction or loss of letters; they might also curse the husband and wife who never leave each other’s side, and thus perform a kind of epistolary abortion.
No army is comprised of all the same kinds of units or types of troops. There is power in diversity. If you always see only one choice, or use only one option, you will surely lose more than you win.
My life has been shaped by the decision two people made over 24 years ago. They decided to adopt a child. They got me, and I got a chance at the kind of life all children deserve.
Oh, well, she decided as her eyes began to close, it is better to love foolishly than to hate bitterly. I hope I am wiser than I was and more kind.
Happy endings happen every day we share our generosity, peace, compassion, kindness, respect, timeless love and joy with our love ones, friends and others.
That she had loved Sylveste because he was such a self-important bastard and made something noble of being a self-important bastard, did it with such utter aplomb that it became a kind of virtue, like the wearing of sackcloth
