It makes Brooke feel strange in her stomach. It is like the feeling when she reads a book like the one about the man with the bomb, or thinks a sentence, just any old sentence like: the girl ran across the park, and unless you add the describing word...
We live in a moment in which old conflicts, much altered during their subterraneous years, have boiled up again. The struggle to own the past so that it can be made to serve contemporary interests has led to gross distortions. But it is true also tha...
She read all sorts of things: travels, and sermons, and old magazines. Nothing was so dull that she couldn't get through with it. Anything really interesting absorbed her so that she never knew what was going on about her. The little girls to whose h...
I entered Princeton University as a graduate student in 1959, when the Department of Mathematics was housed in the old Fine Hall. This legendary facility was marvellous in stimulating interaction among the graduate students and between the graduate s...
Lies I've told my 3 year old recently Trees talk to each other at night. All fish are named either Lorna or Jack. Before your eyeballs fall out from watching too much TV, they get very loose. Tiny bears live in drain pipes. If you are very very quiet...
Whenever the sadness got too much, I would hire a rickshaw and go to the Upper Bazaar. Those little rickshaw trips to the market and back, shopping for lipsticks and imitation Gucci bags and wind-chimes and what not, are some of my happiest memories ...
Hermione: [gazing at a crystal ball] Can I give it a try? Professor Trelawney: Yes, sure! Hermione: The grim. Possibly. Professor Trelawney: You know, my dear, the moment I looked into your eyes I knew that you did not have the mind for the noble art...
Max Bialystock: Don't you see, darling Bloom, glorious Bloom? It's so simple. STEP ONE: We find the worst play ever written, a surefire flop. STEP TWO: I raise a million bucks. Lots of little old ladies out there. STEP THREE: You go back to work on t...
I am a shadow. I walk the wet roads under the dim light of the pale lamps, in the darkest hour of the cold dull nights. I walk past the silent graveyard of the dead memories, towards the city of chaos plagued with gloom. I do not exist, but in the ey...
First, let me finish. Then interrupt.
The first casualty of war is casual wear.
I've been coerced into free will.
An apple a day feeds the tapeworm to stay.
I love objectivity when mine.
Don't stay in this now. You'll fall behind.
Idea lady is the ideal lady!
A wounded animal yet bears teeth
Integrity is the sentry for the conscious soul.
Love is the ultimate creator.
It kills me sometimes, how people die.
He killed himself for wanting to live.
