Long ago she'd clamped an iron shell around her heart and nothing and no one could pry it lose, but deep inside the tender flesh still beat.
Marriage, I have always held, is a serious affair, to be entered into only after long deliberation and forethought, and suitability of tastes adn inclinations is the most important consideration.
There’s bird shit on my toilet paper, and my asshole stings from such a long flight.
A feeling is no longer the same when it comes the second time. It dies through the awareness of its return. We become tired and weary of our feelings when they come too often and last too long.
Why do you always wear black?” She delighted me with her answer, the correct, the only, answer. “I’m in mourning for my life. I’m unhappy.
I had one class in the morning, the mysteriously named "Further Maths". It was two hours long and so deeply frightening that I think I went into a trance.
You are the answer to every prayer I've offered. You are a song, a dream, a whisper, and I don't know how I could have lived without you for as long as I have.
Rule #3 - It's okay to believe yourself better than the rest of the planet, so long as you keep it to yourself.
Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.
The length of people I love is too long to list. But if you were to do it, it would look like a phone book.
We made love the way a man with one leg might run a marathon. 26.2 miles is a long way to hop for an orgasm.
True love doesn't grow on you, feed on you, drain you and spoil your heart. It nourishes, waters the soul and intensifies in absenses long and short.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
A leader. . .is like a shepherd. He stays behind the flock, letting the most nimble go out ahead, whereupon the others follow, not realizing that all along they are being directed from behind.
Had they not been taken, she asked, to circuses when they were children? Never, he answered, as if she asked the very thing he wanted; had been longing all these days to say, how they did not go to circuses.
The limitless, lowering sky, the long stretches of motionless empty prairie, the silence, complete right down to the absence of birdsong -- who knows what decides a man to leave most of his words unspoken?
They came to her, naturally, since she was a woman, all day long with this and that; one wanting this, another that; the children were growing up; she often felt she was nothing but a sponge sopped full of human emotions.
But Jocelyn Morgenstern was not the kind of woman who wept, not the kind of woman who broke, or Valentine would have broken her long since.
It occurred to me that if I were a ghost, this ambiance was what I'd miss most: the ordinary, day-to-day bustle of the living. Ghosts long, I'm sure, for the stupidest, most unremarkable things.
People who are left alone tell the story but are never a part of it; those who are a part of the crowd, are story bound, acting upon the role assigned to them in the theater of living, loving and longing.
Most white Americans were willing to sacrifice civil liberties in the name of national security as long as they were the civil liberties of someone else.
