There was a pretty young woman I used to see pegging out sheets and I worried that she would grow old there and that no one would know how beautiful she was. And maybe she would die without ever having really lived.
Laughing like crazy the child goes back to the city gives birth to monsters creates earthquakes hairy women run naked old folks who look like fetuses laugh and smoke.
Of course I am thinking the Lord was once young and will never in fact be old. And who else could this be, who goes off down the green path, Carrying his sandals, and singing?
So Shakespeare stole; but he did wonderful things with his plunder. He's like somebody who nicks your old socks and then darns them.
The writer who loses his self-doubt, who gives way as he grows old to a sudden euphoria, to prolixity, should stop writing immediately: the time has come for him to lay aside his pen.
I walk through the old yellow sunlight to get to my kitchen table the poem about me lying there with the books in which I am listed among the dead and future Dylans
What makes a man's 80 year-old Irish uncle skip like a little boy? "Me Father is very fond of me!
Hatori: "SHIGURE... I WILL TELL EVERYONE IN THE PUBLISHING INDUSTRY EVERYTHING I KNOW ABOUT YOU, STARTING FROM WHEN YOU WERE FOUR YEARS OLD..." Shigure: "Sorry, Tohru-kun. My lips are sealed!
It was the kind of building that remembered things, deep-down things, things that rode tears into the world, telling them back to anyone old enough or wise enough to know how to listen with their eyes.
I prefer my history dead. Dead history is writ in ink, the living sort in blood." "Do you want to die old and craven in your bed?" "How else? Though not till I'm done reading.
Fever jumped aside just in time to dodge the shower of urine, and stumbled into the path of a religious procession - celebrants in robes and pointed hats whirling and clapping and chanting the name of some old-world prophet,
We are all too often told by someone that we are too old, too young, too different, too much the same, and those comments can be devastating.
Maybe the word forgive points in the wrong direction, since it's something you mostly give yourself, not anyone else: you put down the ugly weight of old suffering, untie yourself from the awful, and walk away from it.
As I grabbed my cocoa, chocolate ran down my hand. "This makes me feel like a five-year-old," I said, licking it off. "If I ordered a sandwich at this place, do you think they'd cut the crusts off?
The thing is', (Rufus) Stone said, 'that if you don't believe that you are an old man, or a woman, or a tramp, then how can you expect anyone else to believe you? Looking the part is just the surface; being the part is the true disguise.
You don't get to chose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers.
I always wanted to eat with a Negro,” Grandma said. Yeah, well I always wanted to eat with a boney- assed old white woman,” Lula said. “So I guess this works out good.
I remembered the last time I put this thing into my eye it was more painful than watching old political speeches while listening to the “Macarena” and having a root canal performed by an angry, clumsy chimp.
Which God is the forgiving one, exactly? Old Testament, where He got His rocks off by smiting? Or New Testament, once Our Heavenly Father got Prozac?
The will forever show that [Obamacare] was passed in a romper room of overgrown children seemingly barely old enough to keep from peeing on themselves.
Life is brutally short, and there's only one go at it. We don't go for the old myths about helping somebody as we travel along life's path or our living will have been in vain. It's for now. Not tomorrow. But now.
