A lot of men tend to want "models" I tell men, unless they look like a model themselves, they can't expect to land one.
Unlike the majority of people, he did not hate or fear the wilderness; as harsh as the empty lands were, they possessed a grace and a beauty that no artifice could compete with and that he found restorative.
I have a problem with state lines, anyway. They interrupt things. They fragment ecosystems, which are nature's most gracious and logical land divisions.
Twill be the end of us all when it comes... The moon will devour the sun... The sea will rise in a great wave and drown the world... The Realms will fall... Evil will crawl across the land.
Falling in love is like falling from a high cliff into a warm silky sea, the falling is like flying and the landing is like a glimpse of the divine.
Check your environment and be sure that it is supportive. Some environments do not support progress. Hiroshima and Nagasaki are not fertile lands for a farmer’s dream seeds. Change location.
Abstract design is all right—for wallpaper or linoleum. But is the process of evoking pity or terror, which is not abstract at all but very human.
One of the most radical and revolutionary things you can do is grow your own food and eat from the land.
But goodness alone is never enough. A hard, cold wisdom is required for goodness to accomplish good. Goodness without wisdom always accomplishes evil.
All things of the body stream away like a river, all things of the mind are dreams and delusion; life is warfare, and a visit to a strange land; the only lasting fame is oblivion.
He was in the right place. He was living his best life. How many other people in the multiverse could say that?
Dry snow coming down in the hills. Magpies hair-triggered and thuggish in worn trees. A wall has started to fall in you, it will take years to land.
So answer me, are you merely a cowardly Moses, pointing the way to the Promised Land but poisoned by doubt and so unable to cross the River Jordan?
I couldn't imagine living in a state that didn't reach the ocean. It was a giant reset button. You could go to the edge of the land and see infinity and feel renewed.
Repetita iuvant. Italy, a land of great saints, poets, sailors, artists, statesmen, businessmen, lawyers, intellectuals, professors, journalists, whores, gangsters, religious parasites and dickheads.
If a picture is worth a thousand words, why did God invent captions?
The idea that people who guarded you could also be the people that you needed guarding from was nothing anyone should have to learn.
She has the mysterious solitude of ambiguous states; she hovers in a no-man’s land between life and death, sleeping and waking.
My secret world of bosom sculpting is crashing down around me. I’m destined for bra-stuffing rehab in a distant boobicus minimus land. I just know it.
I told her I hated normal people and the land of the fucking free and the home of the asshole brave, and I hated God and George and all and everything.
The only religious opinion I feel sure of is this: self-awareness is not just a bunch of amino acids bumping together.
