The young magpie that pulls feathers out of his mother thinks that he is showing gratitude in that way.
If this constant sliding and hiding of meaning were true of conscious life, then we would of course never be able to speak coherently at all. If the whole of language were present to me when I spoke, then I would not be able to articulate anything at...
Konnor said a silent prayer and made his move. He slid his hand over the curve of Grayson's neck and took the gigantic leap into the unknown. He kissed him. A few braincells died the moment Grayson kissed him back. Then a few more, when those perfect...
Carla Jean Moss: [the cab is stopped outside the depot. Carla Jean and her mother and the driver are at the trunk struggling over bags] I got it Mama. Carla Jean's Mother: I didn't see my Prednisone. Carla Jean Moss: I put it in, Mama. Carla Jean's M...
Ralphie as Adult: Round One was over. heh heh. Parents one, kids, zip. I can feel the Christmas noose beginning to tighten. Maybe, what happened next, was inevitable. Mother: Ralphie, what would you like for Christmas? Ralphie as Adult: Horrified, I ...
Whoever buys a house must examine the beams; whoever wants a wife must look at her mother.
As a child, is a man wrapped in his mother's womb; as an adult, in tradition; comes death, and he is wrapped in earth.
A son says to his Mother: "Mother, today I fought with my friend." His Mother says: "Why did you fight with your friend?" "Because he demanded something of me, and I would not give it to him." "Why did you not give it to him?" "Because it was mine." ...
Once," Balinda begins softly, "when I was in the emergency room with my mother they brought in a murderer who had been shot and was dying, right there in front of us. I watched as the nurse touched his face and reassured him and I could not believe t...
Artemis: (shocked) Why, Doctor? This is a sensitive area. For all you know I could be suffering from depression. Doctor Po: I suppose you could. Is that the case? Artemis: (head in hands) It's my mother, Doctor. Doctor Po: Yes? Artemis: My mother, sh...
Out of the corner of one eye, I could see my mother. Out of the corner of the other eye, I could see her shadow on the wall, cast there by the lamplight. It was a big and solid shadow, and it looked so much like my mother that I became frightened. Fo...
Mother’s Day is coming up soon. If you’re lucky enough to still have your mother, tell her you’re grateful to her […] at some point, we must forgive each other for being flawed human beings. Many of us have trouble putting love or gratitude i...
Mothers who know do less. They permit less of what will not bear good fruit eternally. They allow less media in their homes, less distraction, less activity that draws their children away from their home. Mothers who know are willing to live on less ...
Mr. Parker: So what else happened today? Mother: Oh, nothing much. Ralphie had a fight? Mr. Parker: A fight? What kind of a fight? [Looks at Ralphie] Mother: Oh, you know how boys are. I gave him a talking to... [Looks at the news paper] Mother: Uh I...
[last lines] [the President is talking with Korben's mother on the phone] President Lindberg: Mrs. Dallas, this is the President. On behalf of the federation, I would like to thank you... Korben's Mother: Oh, please. That doesn't even sound like him!...
She wanted to claw the memory of their night together out of her brain, but she couldn't disremember.Or stop thinking about his tongue, the way he kissed and caressed her, almost like he wasn't a monster.
You can measure the happiness of a marriage by the number of scars that each partner carries on their tongues, earned from years of biting back angry words.
Her beauty was enough to get her into most any situation she desired and her tongue—sharp and venomous—was enough to get her out again.
No one could say the stories were useless for as the tongue clacked five or forty fingers stitched corn was grated from the husk pathwork was pieced or the darning was done... (from 'The Storyteller Poems')
In the beginning, the taste of power is sweet, savored on the tongue, like fine wine. It whispers promises in your ear and pretends to be your friend. It is easy to become addicted to this feeling.
Why, you boggle-eyed, flap-tongued, drag-bellied offspring of unmentionable algae! You seething little leprous blotch of bat-nibbled fungus! You cringing parasite on the underside of a dwarfish and ignoble worm!
