Grief doesn't have a plot. It isn't smooth. There is no beginning and middle and end.
It's so hard to find the place somewhere in the middle of the best and worst I've felt.
He who rides the middle of the road gets hit from both ends.
An unskilled middle-aged man can work in the mines, and it pays well.
I have a place in Costa Rica that is in the middle of the jungle. There's no Internet. There's no TV. Do I work there? Hell no.
Sure, women sportswriters look when they're in the clubhouse. Read their stories. How else do you explain a capital letter in the middle of a word?
For some reason I seem to be a massive hit with middle-aged women. I seriously don't know what it is.
Empowering women in the workforce is a key to growing the economy and having a thriving middle class.
As with many people, Charles, who could not talk, wrote with fullness. He set down his loneliness and his perplexities, and he put on paper many things he did not know about himself.
A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid any more.
But the Hebrew word, the word timshel—‘Thou mayest’— that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that ‘Thou...
That's why I'm talking to you. You are one of the rare people who can separate your observation from your preconception. You see what is, where most people see what they expect.
What freedom men and women could have, were they not constantly tricked and trapped and enslaved and tortured by their sexuality! The only drawback in that freedom is that without it one would not be a human. One would be a monster.
The house was clean, scrubbed and immaculate, curtains washed, windows polished, but all as a man does it - the ironed curtains did not hang quite straight and there were streaks on the windows and a square showed on the table when a book was moved.
Then there were his education and his reading, the books he bought and borrowed, his knowledge of things that could not be eaten or worn or cohabited with, his interest in poetry and his respect for good writing.
One of the the things she most liked about the city -apart from all its obvious attractions, the theatre, the galleries, the exhilarating walks by the river- was that so few people ever asked you personal questions.
She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, like when you're swimming and you want to put your feet down on something solid, but the water's deeper than you think and there's nothing there
when we look up, it widens our horizons. we see what a little speck we are in the universe, so insignificant, and we all take ourselves so seriously, but in the sky, there are no boundaries. No differences of caste or religion or race.
On croirait qu'il y a en elle deux personnes : l'une silencieuse, lointaine, même un peu taciturne, l'autre très gaie, mais d'une gaieté trop forcée pour être de la vraie joie.
East Hollow is full of tormented souls.’ I remark, only to hear his chuckle, his eyes moving forward just in time to step out of the way of a wayward man with armfuls of carrier bags. ‘Now that is the attraction.
I dunno, remember when we were in East St. Louis with George, and Jack you said you'd love those beautiful dancing girls if you knew they would live forever as beautiful as they are?" (p. 173)
