...keep your eye on the shore and know that you are a little closer to it today than you were yesterday. Just know that this too shall pass and one way or another, you will move on from this place. It is inevitable.
Sometimes I feel so- I don’t know - lonely. The kind of helpless feeling when everything you’re used to has been ripped away. Like there’s no more gravity, and I’m left to drift in outer space with no idea where I’m going’ Like a little l...
Ennek realised what an enormous mistake it had been to buy the thing. Miner was stunning. The sweater was high enough on his neck to almost hide the iron collar. He reminded Ennek of ocean waves, white foam over sea green, but Miner was warm and soft...
After a while it occurred to me that between the covers of each of those books lay a boundless universe waiting to be discovered while beyond those walls, in the outside world, people allowed life to pass by in afternoons of football and radio soaps,...
In an unfathomable expanse of universe supporting galaxies of star systems with orbiting planets innumerable, I am nothing. And yet to the few bodies encircling my tiny little spot in the world, I am essential.
I want to create moonglasses, and then write a song called, "I Wear My Moonglasses at Noon." Hopefully, with a little lunar luck, my track will also feature Corey Hart.
I wonder whether the Christmas feeling has anything to do with the sixth sense. Perhaps we're a little more the angels at Christmas than we are during the rest of the year. And Christmas is about all the other senses. I can smell Christmas, I can tas...
What was it about the Draven brothers that had you doing anything they wished of you. It wasn't just their voice,it was everything, every tiny little supernatural molecule they possessed had you jumping to whatever beat they set. It was their sheer s...
Hi. I'm here to enlist. You can't. You aren't human. You see, little fella, we don't do sociological stuff like "interspeciated workplaces." We're a crack company of space mercenaries. We do "hurting people" and "breaking things." Sounds like my kind...
As with Dutchy and Carmine on the train, this little cluster of women has become a kind of family to me. Like an abandoned foal that nestles against cows in the barnyard, maybe I just need to feel the warmth of belonging. And if I'm not going to find...
She also considered very seriously what she would look like in a little cottage in the middle of the forest, dressed in a melancholy gray and holding communion only with the birds and trees; a life of retirement away from the vain world; a life into ...
Lately I’ve been dreaming about you About us Sharing our secrets Talking, even if we argued Kept talking, till we slept Maybe I woke up On the wrong side of bed Maybe I thought about you Just a little too much
I still say Kellyanne could do with some real-live mates," went on my dad, as if he was talking to someone inside his beer. Mum had stomped off into the kitchen. "Maybe they are real!" she shouted back at him after rattling a few plates together. "Ev...
When people related by blood were so careful with each other, when they were so very polite, there was soon nothing left to say. Only niceties that meant so little they might as well have been spoken to a complete stranger. Such statements did not ad...
So much had been surrendered! And to such little purpose! There had been mad wilful rejections, monstrous forms of self-torture and self-denial, whose origin was fear and whose result was a degradation infinitely more terrible than that fancied degra...
But the very ransomed children of God themselves: why do they know so little of that habitual conscious communion with God which the Scriptures seem to offer? The answer is our chronic unbelief. Faith enables our spiritual sense to function. Where fa...
You like it dirty; I do too. Be filthy; beg me for it. Be a complete cock whore." "You like being forced to just lay there and wait for me. I like it too. You look so good all open and ready for my cock. Just being still and obedient like a good litt...
There is this to be said for walking: it is the one method of human locomotion by which a man or woman proceeds erect, upright, proud and independent, not squatting on the haunches like a frog. Little boys love machines. Grown-up mean and women like ...
The busiest people I have known in my life always have time enough to do everything. Those who do nothing are always tired and pay no attention to the little amount of work they are required to do. They complain constantly that the day is too short. ...
I still have my little red hardcover notebook—spine now held in place by packing tape, pages dotted with cooking stains—filled with her loving instructions for mandelbrot, nut cake, and strudel.
Spend each day trying to be a little wiser than you were when you woke up. Day by day, and at the end of the day-if you live long enough-like most people, you will get out of life what you deserve.
