The butterfly startled at Mary’s gesture and floated up, drifting on the breeze, its wings sparkling blue and bright in the late afternoon sunshine. Silence watched it, enthralled, and then her eyes met Michael’s. A corner of his mouth cocked up....
The only good deed I’ll be doing tonight is for the angels.” “The angels?” “Haven’t you heard? Every time I make you come, an angel gets his wings.” Brady dropped his smoky gaze to Gage’s mouth for a beat. “We really need to leave. ...
You were spying on me?" I repeated, this time my tone was stern. "Nonsense! I was making sure you were safe." He answered, fluttering his wings and landing in front of me. "That's what friends do.
As the clock began to toll out the hour, vibrating under the soles of my sluggish feet, I knew I was too late -and I was glad something bloodthirsty waited in the wings. For in failing at this, I forfeited any desire to live.
Power lines are great places to hang my clothes—especially since my closet is full of birds. I make love like I have wings and know how to fly.
Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love. Yet love me--wilt thou? Open thine heart wide, And fold within, the wet wings of thy dove.
A sign read "Free drinks for billiards competitors only." Hand-lettered below read "All others will pay." It was written in blood. I could tell because a red fairy with what looked like black insect wings was writing it at the time, with his own dism...
The inner woman is the source of healing. The inner woman is the source of silence. The inner woman is the source of love. The inner woman is the source of belongingness with life. Embracing the inner man and woman is to discover our inner roots and ...
I know logically that I can live without him, but loving him has become such an integral, necessary part of my life; I am not sure I could stop, even if we parted.
I love the freedom of my wings. I love the empty space above the ground. I rejoice in my freedom. Freedom is my religion. Peace is my God. Love is my worship.
There are many interactions that an actor like me has in public when he gets recognized. The best are 'You're a great actor, good work,' and move on. A very good interaction could be when they say 'You were awesome on 'The West Wing,' 'Loved 'In Her ...
Francisco Garcia could have been a high draft choice last year, probably in the 20s. He's the best wing player I've ever coached. But he's done it the right way. He knew he had to work on his body to become a good pro. When he goes into the pros, he'...
The one test of the really weird (story) is simply this--whether or not there be excited in the reader a profound sense of dread, and of contact with unknown spheres and powers; a subtle attitude of awed listening, as if for the beating of black wing...
I don't have a mullet, but going into season one on 'The Walking Dead,' I asked to have a mullet, and everybody talked me out of it. Because I'd have to wear a mullet when we were not shooting every day. I have that motorcycle, wings on my vest, the ...
Every heart has a story to tell. Some dreams have wings, some are torn at the seams and just sit there on the shelf. If you were to walk in my shoes, you would see that we are all the same. So find the love inside yourself because every heart has a s...
Small Moth... She's slicing ripe white peaches into the Tony the Tiger bowl and dropping slivers for the dog poised vibrating by her foot to stop their fall when she spots it, camouflaged, a glimmer and then full on- happiness, plashing blunt soft wi...
The evangelical wing of the Church spends a lot of energy on being "born again" but little time on "growing up" again. There is a failing to encourage newborn believers out of the maternity ward and into a big world where they will spend the rest of ...
The Air Force has it far worse than the Navy in terms of existential fears, primarily due to the rapid rise and unbelievable dissemination of drones, where seemingly now every military unit has their own miniature air wing of what would have recently...
When I told my teachers I wanted to be a writer, alot of them encouraged me to lower my expectations and to be more realistic. So I rode away on my magical, winged horse, spraying faerie dust behind me, and laughing manically as I went.
Everyone has a right to cry uncle on a genre every once in awhile. I've done it myself. Sometimes you just can't bear another gear or pair of wings or vampire teeth. You go on a fast, and sometimes you come back, and sometimes you don't.
I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.
