Did you talk to him about it?" "Oh, sure. Nothing happened, yadda yadda. The usual. But my maydar went off like crazy." "Maydar?" "As in, he may be thinking about super hot sex with her. Like radar, only not as sure.
Just wanted to remind you that we're out of milk again. And hot sauce." "Why are those two always out at the same time? Because those do not go together." "I suspect Shane. He'd put hot sauce in anything," Michael said.
_I_ boil it." Joseph entered last, closing the door behind them. "Last time, you burnt it." Connor glared at Joseph. "We were attacked! What would you have me tell the Abenaki? 'I cannae fight just now. I'm makin' candy. Would you like a wee taste?
What was it about relationships that made you feel so vulnerable? Oh, right. A relationship. In any relationship, you put yourself out there. You exposed all of your sensitive nerve endings and your heart and you just had to hope that you trusted the...
What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable. But what end? There is the great standing perennial problem to which human reason is as far...
Time and times are but cogwheels, unmatched, grinding on oblivious to one another. Occasionally - oh, very rarely! - the cogs fit; the pieces of the plot snap together momentarily and give men faint glimpses beyond the veil of this everyday blindness...
Politics is the art of achieving the maximum amount of freedom for individuals that is consistent with the maintenance of social order,
I hope you smile, laugh, and maybe even learn something that will help you along the way to happily-ever-after.
Jacksonville was founded by a man named Jack. Jack’s last name wasn’t Sonville, as you’d expect. Oddly, Jack’s last name was Fatherville, but since Jack was himself a bastard, he found the name Jackfatherville to be offensive. Hence, Jacksonv...
The new light above my table is a great improvement. With all this darkness around me I feel less alone. (Pause.) In a way. (Pause.) I love to get up and move about in it, then back here to... (hesitates) ...me. (Pause.)
I asked her to look at me and after a few moments - (pause) - after a few moments she did, but the eyes just slits, because of the glare I bent over her to get them in the shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low) Let me in.
One by one they dissapeared Pumpkin last of all. The last May saw of himwas his sad face under his waving tuft of hair and then his long fingers,reaching out toward her for a hug that would never happen now as they turned around the bend.
There is no steady unretracing progress in this life; we do not advance through fixed gradations, and at the last one pause: - through infancy's unconscious spell, boyhood's thoughtless faith, adolescence' doubt (the common doom). and then scepticism...
Today's Europeans and Americans who reached the age of awareness after midcentury when the communications revolution lead to expectations of instantanaiy are exasperated by the slow toils of history. They assume that the thunderclap of cause will be ...
Words are powerful. Words make a difference. They can create and destroy. They can open doors and close doors. Words can create illusion or magic, love or destruction. … All those things.
Do you think I care if Aslan doomes me to death?” said the King. “That would be nothing, nothing at all. Would it not be better to be dead than to have this horrible fear that Aslan has come and is not like the Aslan we have believed in and longe...
It’s only through the degradation of the soul that you can know who you really are; when all else is stripped away, leaving you bare.” Somehow, his black eyes darkened, the venom in his words more deadly than a viper’s bite. “Let me degrade y...
It's just high school, man. Those guys are just high school guys, and in ten years they're going to be working for people like me. I know that. I just have to make it through two more years.
I have been a friend to Shadowhunters. I know many of your families, going back for hundreds of years." "There is nothing we can do to correct the questionable judgments of our ancestors," Lucian said. Magnus hated this guy.
When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon.
Stories are like snapshots, pictures snatched out of time, with clean hard edges. But this was life, and life always begins and ends in a bloody muddle, womb to tomb, just one big mess, a can of worms left to rot in the sun.
