At heart, he could not abide sense in women: he liked to see them as silly, as light-headed, as vain, as open to ridicule as possible; because they were then in reality what he held them to be, and wished them to be,--inferior: toys to play with, to ...
I can pick a liar from a lineup of thieves and slanderers: the best of the best. I was hoping you would not resist the information we need but I must ask you now to answer my question truthfully and to choose your next words wisely. What does the key...
To move forward, simply set your intentions, be grateful for what you have, be open to what is possible, and the rest will happen, as a beautiful and effortless journey of cooperation and listening.
Love is not a word or an idea or even a place to go to or a thing to strive for. It is not something to grasp and smother and mold and change. It cannot be orchestrated, played, controlled or manipulated. You can not cup it tenderly in your open hand...
She looked out the window; in her eyes was the light that you see only in children arriving at a new place, or in young people still open to new influences, still curious about the world because they have not yet been scarred by life.
I wondered what happened when you offered yourself to someone, and they opened you, only to discover you were not the gift they expected and they had to smile and nod and say thank you all the same.
I walked him down to the front door, and the Savannah air assaulted me as I opened the door. “This town was never the same without you.” He turned around and started his short walk home, disappearing into the black of the night.
Conroy writes that, while part of him was following the basketball game from the bench, "the other part, an embassy of a completely sovereign nation, would fling its doors open to the most authentic part of me.
He opened his mouth to say that she looked extremely beautiful and deserved armfuls of roses, but the words were lost in committee somewhere, shuffled aside by the parts of his head that worked full-time at avoiding ridicule.
Briefly summarising, we can express the proposed law thus: consciousness is bound up with learning in organic substance; organic competence is unconscious. Still more briefly, and put in a form which is admittedly rather obscure and open to misunders...
Glimpses do ye seem to see of that mortally intolerable truth; that all deep, earnest thinking is but the intrepid effort of the soul to keep the open independence of her sea; while the wildest winds of heaven and earth conspire to cast her on the tr...
I’d actually questioned my sanity, wondered if this was it: the substandard past few years had finally led to a mental break with reality, and now, floodgates open, there’d be no limit to the fiends I’d encounter. They’d simply crawl out of m...
You die." Thad's voice was heavy; the fire was gone. "It's like everyone has a personal window of time that the gateway to Nil stays open for them. It's always one year. Exactly three hundred sixty-five days. If you miss that window, you're done.
Fuck," Ranger said. Ranger didn't often curse and he rarely raised his voice. The fuck has been entirely conversational. Like he was now midly inconvenienced. He put his Bates boot to the door and the door popped open..
I was so attracted to him I could have peed myself right there on the spot, but I hadn't done anything like that in a while. I was older now, and harnessed my feelings in moments like these by opening and closing my fists very rapidly.
Any serious reading of the Bible means personal involvement in it, not symbol mental agreement with abstract propositions. And involvement is dangerous, because it leaves one open to unforeseen conclusions.
Imagine a great net spread across the universe. Each juncture is a “being,” and if we imagine that consciousness as a drop of dew, we can see that in each shining drop resides the reflection of every other drop on the net.
Each neighborhood of the city appeared to be made of a different substance, each seemed to have a different air pressure, a different psychic weight: the bright lights and shuttered shops, the housing projects and luxury hotels, the fire escapes and ...
Robbins had opened Gabby up. Her charred skin was peeled back, and her ribs were removed. She was pink inside, like steak that had been burned on a high heat but remained raw in the middle.
I wish every envelope enclosed a love letter. It’s this hope that leads me to open strangers’ mail. So you see, I’m a romantic, not an NSA employee.
Learning to decipher words had only added to the pleasures of holding spines and turning pages, measuring the journey to the end with a thumb-riffle, poring over frontispieces. Books! Opening with a crackle of old glue, releasing perfume; closing wit...
