... the scarlet thread,the red clay from which we were made, runs in tiny streams through all our veins, reminding us of where we began ...
...at seventeen I tried to write poetry confining myself solely to Anglo-Saxon words - don't know if it helped, but it made me more concrete ...
I liked that he was a tenured professor in the Department of Slightly Crooked Smiles with a dual appointments in the Department of Having a Voice that Made My Skin Feel More Like Skin.
So the first step out of childhood is made all at once, without looking before or behind, without caution, and nothing held in reserve.
I am yet to meet the idiot at whose door success arrived as a direct result of his refusal to invest in the enterprise that made him rich.
We’re stars, you know. Different, distant, young and old, but we’re all made of the same stuff. We all shine just as bright as the next.
Very sorry. I’m wet. I mean, you made me wet.” Nope, not better. Now, he sounded like a pervert. “You didn’t make me
I looked at sky this morning and realized summer is almost gone which really made me sad because it doesn't seem as though its been here at all.
Was there some basic flaw in her makeup that made her keep falling in love with this man who couldn’t love her back?
Man to woman; man to man in letter words will stand the philosophy of coming in along by the bay of hay made so sublime be that it outlasts the coming time.
Hearing my brother’s words coming out of Henry, this stranger in a strange town, made me feel wild with all the loss—wild and wired with no place to put those feelings.
This was what the poets couldn't put in their poetry, she thought dumbly, the rush of desire so fierce and pure it made one shake, all on the force of a word.
Being with him made me want to make my own dreams, discover my own path. I was my best self when I was with him.
But despite the gloss and sparkle of the job (champagne breakfasts, gift bags from Bergdorf's) the hours were long and there was a hollowness at the heart of it that-I knew-made her sad.
His mother stood before him like a monument. He saw her great outline through the blur of his weakness and his passion. She made no movement at all.
She couldn't avoid being serious about things she cared for, and happiness made her grave at the thought of all the things which might destroy it.
You know, I can’t wait for her to gets married because hell is made of fire and she said it would be frozen before she gots married again.” ~ Anna Kate
I have wandered many roads that I have never traveled; touched many things that my eyes have never seen. It is through stories that life is made, and through stories that life is saved.
I will find her." "And when you do?" Roger asked. "I will make her mine," the warrior answered in a hard, determined voice. "She will be mine." The vow was made.
It made no sense to him, this idea that some people got God and some people didn't.
You'd tell the world what your best friend wore to sleep if you thought it made a good enough story.
