Other, dryer customers came and went, having just stepped out of their conveyances or popped down the street from their houses in the town. They left their umbrellas dripping at the door, and looked at her with that particular combination of sympathy...
Nine times out of ten I left one out. But the one I leave out is never love. I always put love in—even when I put it in your butt.
I love with the heart of two men. Well, I would, if that damned neurosurgeon would go ahead and replace my left brain with the heart of a midget.
I think it was love. She was the kind of woman I’d like to spend the rest of my life with—if I’d just been told I have six months left to live.
Good night, my lord.” The words were pronounced in her most withering tone. By contrast, he remained quite alarmingly unwithered long after she left.
The wood nymph instructors left me in the dust. They told me not to worry about it. They'd had centuries of practice running away from lovesick gods. But still, it was a little humiliating to be slower than a tree.
Chance. It weaves through our lives like a golden thread, sometimes knotting, tangling, and breaking along the way. Loose threads are left hanging, but the in and out, the back and forth continues, the weaving goes on. It doesn't stop.
There's release in knowing the truth no matter how anguishing it is. You come finally to the irreducible thing, and there's nothing left to do but pick it up and hold it. Then, at last, you can enter the severe mercy of acceptance.
But have you ever seen one?....They shook their heads. "Not Physically, no. But if you look at this passage - " Man, she liked that Bible. I'd read it and could definitely understand it's appeal, but I didn't have time for this.
I just...I've fantasized about peace and quiet for so long, dreamt about being left alone...but when the TV was off, and the sun was down...I'm in a full sob right now. I've just never felt so alone, and I couldn't take it.
There are no stars, no moon, only knots, only the promise of death. Drums cry out in the abyss and then fade with everything else. Even the shadows fade and all that is left is death. We are all dead, we just haven't figured it out yet.
Let me tell you something, kid," said Mrs. H of Boston and Beacon Hill. "Magic is just a word for what's left to the powerless once everyone else has eaten their fill.
Forgetting is like a great alchemy free of secrets, limpid, transforming everything to the present. In the end it makes our lives into this visible and tangible thing we hold in our hands, with no folds left hidden in the past.
The moment a person feels he has nothing left to learn is the moment life prepares to hit him hard enough to correct such ignorance.
The monkey liked most humans. They left food cans outside their homes for his family to rummage through in the morning sun. Some yelled and threw sticks, but were slow and didn’t bite. Humans were mostly harmless.
I don't understand German myself. I learned it at school, but forgot every word of it two years after I had left, and have felt much better ever since.
Life doesn’t owe us anything. We only owe ourselves, to make the most of the life we are living, of the time we have left, and to live in gratitude.
They can’t help it, you know. It happens in the egg,” she reasoned. “As soon as they grow that genitalia, intelligence goes right out the window and we’re left with this thing that just wants to stick it in any hole.
Real friends were the kind where you pick up where you’d left off, whether it be a week since you’d seen each other or two years.
We’re not together anymore. Don’t forget it. There is a pause before he responds. Hard to forget that. The gaping hole in my chest that was left when u ripped my heart out kind of reminds me every time I breathe.
Umasi kept walking, out of sight and into the glittering night. Meahwhile, Zen lay alone, defeated on the cold ground, knowing that he had truly been left behind. Then the memories returned, and for the first time in his life, he cried.
