The thing is, I mean, there’s times when you look at the universe and you think, “What about me?” and you can just hear the universe replying, “Well, what about you?”
I have received the command from Heaven: May my time be always long and prosperous.
Now I wonder if it means that the future is a place, or like a place, that I could go to; that is go to in some way other than just getting older.
Think for a minute, darling: in fairy tales it's always the children who have the fine adventures. The mothers have to stay at home and wait for the children to fly in the window.
Like a good Indian, he knew when to talk and when to remain silent. Like a good Indian, he knew there was never a good time to talk.
You can still be cool when you’re dead. In fact, it’s much easier, because you aren’t getting old and fat and losing your hair.
I don't know what to say to this Clare who is old and young and different from other girls, who knows that different might be hard.
We come to a house and walk down the small walkway to its backyard. In the yard there are two screens and a slide projector. People are seated in lawn chairs, watching slides of trees.
Chaos is more freedom; in fact, total freedom. But no meaning. I want to be free to act, and I also want my actions to mean something.
We are often insane with happiness. We are also very unhappy for reasons neither of us can do anything about. Like being separated.
I think about my mother singing after lunch on a Summer afternoon, twirling in blue dress across the floor of her dressing room
There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.
Every time I thought I was being rejected from something good, I was actually being re-directed to something better.
But pain is like a fresh wound. If you add pressure to it, the more it’ll hurt. With time, the wound will heal. A scar will remain, reminding you that the pain once existed. Time heals.
Suddenly it felt like there was a ticking time bomb in the house. I didn’t have all the time in the world to make you love me again; I had only a few short months.
The world was made for the dead. Think of all the dead there are...There's a million times more dead than living and the dead are dead a million times longer than the living are alive...
She, who was bored almost to agony, and who had nothing at all to do, she had not time to think even, seriously, of anything. Time being, after all, only the current of the soul in its flow.
You fainted and I caught you. It was the first time I'd supported a human. You had such heavy bones. I put myself between you and gravity. Impossible.
For the first time ever we sympathized with the President because we saw how wildly our sphere of influence was misrepresented by those in no position to know what was going on.
The naked pinch hitter takes only one thing to the plate: his raw, and somewhat irrational, confidence in himself. That this confidence is so unreasonable adds to its dignity.
Just ask me to show you, and I will. I may be a virgin, a first time lover, but every second I can't do what burns in me to do, is an eternal fucking torment. ~Ruin
