The crimson thread of God's love that weaves its way throughout the story of His mercy in our life, stands out against the backdrop of the darkness which invades any valley.
My grandma loved to be on stage entertaining people. She loves to make people smile and laugh. She loves to brighten other people's day. She often calls perfect strangers her angel, as a way of witnessing, but also to encourage and build their ...
Maria: If Chino hurts him, if he touches him, I swear to you I'll... Anita: You'll do what Tony did to Bernardo? Maria: I love Tony. Anita: I know. I loved Benardo.
Charming guy with guitar: I gave my love a cherry / That had no stone / I gave my love a chicken / That had no bones / I gave my love a story / That had no end / I gave my... Bluto: [grabs the guitar and smashes it against the wall] Sorry.
As much as we look up at the stars and know there is more than life on earth, the divinity of dogs is just as unexplainable and profound. They may be the purest example of divine love in an earthly soul many of us ever experience. If we take their le...
Sophisticated readers understand that writers work out their anger, their conflicts, their endless grief and rolling list of loss, through their stories. That however mean-spirited or diabolical, it's only a story. That the darkness in the soul is sh...
... and I realise the only way to tell the others is through the way my voice can take these broken words and turn it into music. Turn it into poetry. And I sing to make myself come alive, but also for you, because I’d like this to mean something. ...
There were days when I still put on make up in case you’d come back, but I wear the same clothes and shower in the rain and eat when I can and sleep when I can, which is rare and not often, so if you’d see me now on these streets where I once ima...
You don’t love me!” Agatha shouted. When she said that, I said I couldn’t agree more. Of course I completely disagreed with her, and that is why I simply could not agree more. It took all my effort to agree to the degree that it took to even be...
I have alchemised my love for Agatha, and turned it into gold, which is the embodiment of Orafoura. I am the Elixir of Love--hot, cold, dry, and moist, I am the quintessential element: Jell-O. Agatha makes me yummy like John Wayne rides horse radish.
Agatha had rose-colored cheeks, and thorn-like warts all over her slender neck. When we’d make love, I’d pretend I was Helen Keller and her neck was the Book of Love. I like to think I wrote that book, but I didn’t. Orafoura did.
To get the most out of the relationship you are in, it won't be helpful to listen to the ego's stories about it. They will only bring separation and conflict. Essence would tell a different story about your loved one. It would probably be something l...
You don't bless what you love...It's when you want to love and you can't manage it. You stretch out your hands and you say God forgive me that I can't love but bless this thing anyway...We have to bless what we hate...It would be better to love, but ...
…in that moment, as he saw and smelled how irresistible its effect was and how with lightning speed it spread and made captives of the people all around him—in that moment his whole disgust for humankind rose up again within him and completely so...
If you have a story to tell, put it out there. Get the thing done. No excuses. No procrastinating. No apologies. It will never be as good as you want it to be, so forget about perfection. Just be satisfied that you've done the best work you can do at...
Light and funny has a more compelling quality when you're younger. But I haven't abandoned the genre: I love falling down; I love Lucille Ball. It's just that a lot of those stories revolve around problems that I can't convincingly portray at this ag...
I don't think with any book you get used to people falling in love with the story. It's been incredible just to realize your books are being read. It's a pretty amazing feeling.
I was craving a chance at the lifelong fantasy, and I had that. That was a one-off thing. I was looking for an experience, Eric, not wanting to cultivate a habit.
I stayed there on the floor like that for a long, long time. Eating and crying. Crying and eating.
All writers pen sad stories to garner sympathy, writing is after all for the abandoned of the society: the ink-leech, spewing black blood and sucking innocent souls.
If you’re always looking back at what you’ve lost, you’ll never discover the treasure that lies just up ahead.
