Charitably... I think... sometimes, perhaps, one must change or die. And, in the end, there were, perhaps, limits to how much he could let himself change.
For a long time, Maurice rubbed his shaved head in his palm, until at last he looked up at his student. "Teo, I think you have to let Deu be the God he is, not the god you want him to be.
Let me tell you something: you can not write good fiction about ideas. You can only write good fiction about people.
Let them hear your voice so rarely that a simply-uttered word creates a hush of expectancy in the room.
Let me tell you something about meditation. At the absolute center, is the vortex we are spun from like clay, there is a shaping hand which is neither Godlike nor peaceful as you imagine.
He leans in closer and closer until his breath caresses my mouth. I’m paralyzed. I swear he’s going to kiss me. I swear I’m going to let him.
Josh joined her at the window. She let him look. He should know that the world was not all lessons and iguanas and Nintendo. It was also this muddy simple boy tethered like an animal.
This will be the greatest discovery since the extinction of dinosaurs.” “Assuming dinosaurs did exist, that is,” Derkein said. Alex shook her head. “Couldn’t just let me have this moment, could you?
No! Wait! I've got a better idea..." "Your ideas tend to result in unnecessary violence, Sergeant Schlock." "And your point is..." "Let's broaden the definition of 'necessary'." -Sergeant Schlock & Captain Tagon
I resolved, then, deep in my soul never to let him go. I'd be the one never to leave him. I'd prove to him that some things could be for always- that we could be.
I cannot let my blood pressure rise because someone wishes to spread his or her bad day around, as if to dilute instead of multiply it.
Nothing in my beliefs tells me to let my relationship with the divine interfere with romantic love, the friction of sects never getting in the way of the friction of sex.
Let every man abide in the calling wherein he is called and his work will be as sacred as the work of the ministry. It is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular, it is why he does it.
Blake took her face in his hands. “You let me touch you. Kiss you. Your skin? It feels like piano keys. My hands know just where to go.
Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry.
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my eyes off his body, just the sight of his abs or arms was enough to make me want to get naked and let Carlo take over anything he wanted.
If we can let ourselves, all of us, be united by the simple fact of having a difference, we will be bigger and stronger and more powerful than anyone who might otherwise make us feel small.
If only they let me, I'll go right into the dense forest where you can't find your way. And where the honey-sipping hummingbird rocks himself on the end of the thinnest branch, I will flower out as a champa.
If I could turn you on, if I could drive you out of your wretched mind, if I could tell you I would let you know.
If you look close enough, you can see cracks in everything. And that's okay. Because when you really think about it, it's the cracks and gaps and chinks in things that let the light shine in.
Let your body move. It will give voice to a language that can heal.
