I feel like shredded paper thrown to the wind, each poet took a piece of me and wrote a word or phrase...
At that time, I often thought that if I had had to live in the trunk of a dead tree, with nothing to do but look up at the sky flowing overhead, little by little I would have gotten used to it.
Kids never jumped head first from the top ledge. Never. It seemed forever before Stoney came back to the surface. Most of the white bubbles had already disappeared.
I believe a family just isn’t complete without skeletons. My dearest momma clean bit off my daddy’s nose right around the time they divorced.
The two smallest boys were cut down first, bodies bounding in different directions as they were shot from opposite sides of the field, like pinballs caught in a tight corner.
So I took her hand, and I don't know what everybody else heard, but to me it sounded like a slow dance: a little sad, but maybe a little hopeful, too.
...And nostalgia is a cancer. Nostalgia will fill your heart up with tumors. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's what you are. You're just an old fart dying of terminal nostalgia.
There’s a little angel on one of my shoulders saying that this is a wicked thing to do. Then there’s a little devil on my other shoulder, and she looks a lot like you.
A little government and a little luck are necessary in life, but only a fool trusts either of them.
Mike drank straight from the carton, wiped his mouth, and stared at her. "You've been acting freaky. Are you high? Can I have some if you are?
Injuries, therefore, should be inflicted all at once, that their ill savour being less lasting may the less offend; whereas, benefits should be conferred little by little, that so they may be more fully relished.
A great man of science ... knows everything about everything, except why a hen's egg does not turn into a crocodile and two or three other little things."
If it looks a bit rough, a little worn, with little splotches - those have the swetest flavor. The ones that are perfect on the outside tend to be a bit more bland. That is true about many things in life.
If you have no money, men won't care for you, women won't love you; won't, that is, care for you or love you the last little bit that matters.
I think the best thing I can hope to achieve is to educate, or make aware, as many people as possible on how the little things they do every day really do affect our environment, and how easy it is to fix some of those things.
One aspect of perfection, after all, it stands to reason, will be that our need for imperfection will cease. Or, perhaps more precisely: that imperfection itself will cease to have meaning.
Still, most of those effects occur in the context of harmless play and it is patently obvious that children are not normally turned into aggressive little monsters by TV or video games, since most children do not become aggressive little monsters.
It would be so great if it were possible to go through life without making a single mistake but there is no such path. Falling, tripping, losing the way, making mistakes, little by little, walking one step at a time, this is the only way.
I suppose I've got a natural rhythm. When I was little, I used to just dance a lot and have some fun. I'd never been taught to dance. I've never been to dance school. I do my own little dance moves.
I know a little of living and a little of dying. I know how to survive, i have mastered it as a soldier gains mastery of his weapons. Yet i prefer dying, for in dying i learn to live.
I just could not believe that 30 years later we're still looking at people who are supposed to write little 2-minute pop that when they actually try to do something that's a little bit more they regard it as pretentious.
