There is nothing like deprivation to generate thanks for small mercies.
Love is like dew that falls on both nettles and lilies.
Zeal is like fire: it needs both feeding and watching.
Happiness is like crystal -- when it shines the most, it soon cracks.
I feel as though I should say something profound, or enact some rite, or trade something to make it official. I want to transfer some trinket which would allow me to say that she's my girl, some kind of currency that proves to people that she likes m...
I begin to learn there are certain things I shouldn't tell her. Like when we meet boys at Dorrian's and I give mine a blow job, or the time I messed around with a boy in the back near the bathrooms. Amy wants to be intimate with boys too, but to her ...
Like a comet pulled from orbit, As it passes a sun. Like a stream that meets a boulder, Halfway through the wood. Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed for good It well may be, That we will never...
Brian Taylor: You feel like a hero? Mike Zavala: What? Brian Taylor: You feel like a hero? Mike Zavala: No. Brian Taylor: Yeah, me neither. [pauses] Brian Taylor: What's a hero feel like? Mike Zavala: I don't know, man. Did I tell you that me and uh....
Rita: You think you've got the market cornered on human suffering? Let me tell you something about people like me. People like me feel lost, and little, and ugly, and dispensable. People like me have husbands, screwing other people far more perfect t...
Begbie: Picture the scene: The other fuckin' week there, down the fuckin' Volley with Tommy, playing pool. I'm playing like Paul-Fuckin'-Newman by the way. Givin' the boy here the tannin' of a lifetime. So it comes to the, down to the last shot, the ...
Vivian: Speaking of horses, I like to play them myself. But I like to see them workout a little first, see if they're front runners or comefrom behind, find out what their whole card is, what makes them run. Marlowe: Find out mine? Vivian: I think so...
The love of God is like himself – equal, constant, not capable of augmentation or diminution; our love is like ourselves – unequal, increasing, waning, growing, declining. His, like the sun, always the same in its light, though a cloud may someti...
Do I look like I'm compelled to do anything? Do I seriously look like anyone could compel me to even bring them a coaster?" She looked me over again. "You look like you're compelled to cause trouble, but I doubt that's the boss' directive.
As she stared at them, Waringa noted that their skins were indeed red, like that of pigs or like the skin of a black person who has been scalded with boiling water or who has burned himself with acid creams. Even the hair in their arms and necks stoo...
Even so, there were times I saw freshness and beauty. I could smell the air, and I really loved rock 'n' roll. Tears were warm, and girls were beautiful, like dreams. I liked movie theaters, the darkness and intimacy, and I liked the deep, sad summer...
I like his optimism,' I said. 'I like the way when he and some other rabbis saw a jackal in the ruins of Jerusalem, and the others began to cry, he laughed and said that just as the prophecy of the destruction of the temple was fulfilled, so the prop...
We may not understand the pathways God lays out before us. We may not even like walking the journey. But even in failure, we can trust that He’ll do more than we expect.
We won’t be able to choose who we’ll have to talk to in order to keep advancing in life. We won’t always like them, and they will most likely not like us back either, so it’s wrong to confine ourselves in our own little worlds when there’s ...
I don't feel like a person at all: I am something to be loaded and unloaded, like a sofa or a cuckoo clock. I am something to be tossed into a junkyard, thrown into the river, if necessary. I don't feel real anymore. I feel like I could disappear.
Her lips taste like mint from toothpaste or gum, or sometimes like cherries or grapes from her lip gloss. She's soft when I hold her, with curves where my hands rest, and when I touch her I think stupid caveman things like, and —oh yeah, and .
This place does not feel like my country. It feels like countries I have read about where things are very bad. It feels, in fact, like exactly the kind of thing we were protesting against, but we thought it was elsewhere. It is not heartening to find...
