Trying to resist my love is like trying to hold back a tsunami with a surfboard. My advice is to take up boogie boarding.
I'm a year older than 365 days ago, and I'm having trouble bending my knees and my lower back is killing me. Everything reminds me of death. Especially bending over all day to steal the flowers off all the graves in the cemetery.
I prefer long-distance relationships. If we were dating, would you be offended if I asked you to stand back a few feet?
I had a hot date last night. Things were going well so I took her back to her house, dropped her off, and went home to masturbate.
Rollie Fingers called. He wants his fingers back. And his mustache. Too bad I sold them to 1969 to buy some free love. Wait, if it was free, why did I buy it? 1969 ripped me off!
Love lets us ride on its back as if it were a camel. But you’ve got to water it, or it won’t grow into a healthy rose bush.
In 50 years, I’m going to tell my grandchildren, “Back when I was growing up we didn’t have teleportation devices. We actually had to walk to school. In the snow. And shoes hadn’t even been invented yet.
You're absolved," I tell him. He brings his eyes back up to mine. There's no fucking way he knows what that word means. That's a word I dream someone will say to me. So I put it in his language. "You're free.
In the light of the crappy little lamp, all I was looking at was a frizzy mop of blonde hair and a bare back with one big angry red patch on it, but Jesus fucking God she was beautiful, and if you don't understand that, I'm sorry for you.
We come back to the same people to learn something about how we have changed. We want to be assured that we have changed. We so want our pictures to paint differently than they do.
What are you waiting for? How long will you keep waiting? Don’t sit back and wait for life to happen to you. Have a plan and take the needed steps to create what you want.
There is no humility in calling yourself a Christian; placing Christ in the role of colleague. The humility lies in the truth of your imperfection and a more accurate description as a student of Christianity; placing Christ back in the role as head t...
I walked home, seeing all my doubt from the other side. Have you ever seen that? Like when you go on holiday. On the way back, everything is the same but it looks a little different than it did on the way. It's because you're seeing it backwards.
And so, as the mob backs away to give them space... as the riot police holster their weapons, standing down, and as Risa takes the podium, calming the crowd with a voice as soothing as a sonata, Connor Lassiter holds his family like he'll never let t...
What is a parent, really, but somebody who picks up the things a child leaves behind - a trail made of stripped off clothing, orphaned shoes, tiny bright plastic game pieces, and nostalgia - and who hands back each of these when its needed?
You're amazing," she whispered hoarsely. He pushed back the hair from her face. "You too." "How? All I do is let you play me like a piano." He chuckled. "You've got a great keyboard.
No, we’ll live. I promise you that.” He’d said it in a way that she couldn’t doubt, the same way he’d snapped his soldiers back into their rank on the helicopter. His words had been soft yet firm, and she wanted to believe in him as his men...
Do not cry for me, Azrael. Do not waste your tears. You made your decision. And this is mine. Sacrifice seems to be my destiny. A funny thing for a selfish man, isn't it? They always called me weak back then...
We always have to go backward to move forward. Whether it’s to face our own missteps or reach the end of our lives with a final mistake... We always have to go back to pull ourselves out of ignorance or cast ourselves deeper into revenge.
She settled back in the chair and draped one leg casually over the other, her hands coming to rest together on her knee. “Arrest me. Torture me. Parade me about in the public square. You will have your prize catch. And you will lose everything.
The little boy nodded at the peony and the peony seemed to nod back. The little boy was neat, clean and pretty. The peony was unchaste, dishevelled as peonies must be, and at the height of its beauty.(...) Every hour is filled with such moments, big ...
