An ice sculpture in the Sahara makes about as much sense as donkey left open gaping wagon, Sergeant (add cream cheese sparingly).
I didn’t have time to bury the money. All my precious time was taken up burying the body. I should have left the body and hid the cash. Damn! Now I’ve got no body, but no money, and nobody to blame but myself.
I make an H2O alternative with my armpits. I left you a ten-gallon sample in your car, as a going away gift.
And out came an insult with the velocity of a whisper. But I could see I offended, so I zipped up my pants and left the wedding reception.
I won't discuss non-discussable things with her, like the sound of silence or the vertical dimensions of an awkward moment. Those sorts of things are best left unsaid, like the last time I told her I loved her.
Even if there were only seventeen syllables left in the universe, I still don’t think The Mythical Mr. Boo would write a haiku. Especially not if those syllables were groups of “oh,” “no,” “ah,” “ouch,” “ugh,” “eek,” and “...
Then he cocked his head to the side, arched his left eyebrow like a drawbridge, and said, “I am you in the future.” The only thing sillier than a clone, is a dream clone.
What are you willing to have left undone in your life? Don’t let yourself be another example of a life gambled but not lived. Do not waste another day! If not now, when?
The misfortune is that although everyone must come to [death], each experiences the adventure in solitude. We never left Maman during those last days... and yet we were profoundly separated from her.
Perhaps it was because his life as a human had been so happy and his life since becoming a vampire had been so lonely that Kian clung to any shred of humanity left in him.
For two years, she and Cassie had been inseparable. And then one night, Cassie had disappeared from her bed. In her place, her abductor had left his calling card, a macabre nursery rhyme. Cassie had never come home.
I also know that I was not the only seeker of the Holy Grail. One day, somebody will be worthy enough. All that is left for me are my memories—the weekend in Faro, when I was so close to it and so happy and so in love.
It had felt as if I were truly awake for the first time, true knowledge running like ice in my blood. The memory exhilirated me for a moment, then left me with a broken cord of loss.
I left this conversation hours ago, but somehow my mouth is still moving, words are still forming, and none have seemed to offend. Amazing, the mind. My mind, I mean. Not hers.
I have no doubt that it is a part of the destiny of the human race, in its gradual improvement, to leave off eating animals, as surely as savage tribes have left off eating each other when they came in contact with the more civilized.
That was the thing about words, they were clear and specific--chair, eye, stone--but when you talked about feelings, words were too stiff, they were this and not that, they couldn't include all the meanings. In defining, they always left something ou...
I love you," she said, and I knew she meant it because she spoke the words from the heart at the center of her chest. This, at least, had not been left behind at the hospital.
Without her, part of my soul was missing. My heart had left with her, when she moved with Henry here, putting half the planet between us, making me wait for the rare phone calls.
I wouldn’t feel great if you left me alone, but I wouldn’t feel bad either. I’d feel good, like I always do, which has nothing to do with you, even if you’ll have nothing to do with me.
For refusing to collapse into an earth-devouring black hole under the force of its own staggering density, we dedicate this book to Theodore Roosevelt's left testicle.
Giving governors more leeway in administering health care could represent a small, positive development in the ongoing saga of Obamacare. Unfortunately, instead of choosing flexibility, President Obama and his left-leaning advisers always default to ...
