Well," I ask, leaning over him, "do you wish to stay?" "I do." "And why is that, Cole?" I say, tipping toward him so that our noses nearly brush. "Well," he says with a smile, "the weather's quite nice.
I love to stalk. I love to stalk you real, real good. I took your name home after our date and we had the best Google session of my life.
I already knew our “ever after” wouldn't always be happy or even comfortable―and clearly it couldn't be expected to go according to plan. Still, it was . And we were both determined enough to see it through to “the end.
Everyone lives in a proverbial music video for a few hours. Then they leave the blinged out universe of faux-independence and fleeting adulthood and return to their parents’ homes. Their parents’ homes replete with marble floors and gold chandeli...
When was it I realized that, on this truly dark and solitary path we all walk, the only way we can light is our own? Although I was raised with love, I was always lonely. Someday, without fail, everyone will disappear, scattered into the blackness of...
We made love like two Inuits make love like two popsicles, and then we went back to our cold lives. That was the best summer of my night.
The thing we have in common is we both love to make love. Maybe one day we can merge our mutual interest and make love to each other.
We made love like ten minutes ago. I still remember it vividly, even though our brief sexual encounter took place ten years ago.
There was our father, the heart we knew held all of us. Held us heavily and desperately, the doors of his heart opening and closing with the rapidity of stops on an instrument, the quiet felt closures, the ghostly fingering, practice and practice and...
I did not want to tell her what happened, but I had to now. I could not stop talking because now I had started my story, it wanted to be finished. We cannot choose where to start and stop. Our stories are the tellers of us.
How can we ever understand what we are and where we belong in the universe if we haven't experienced anything outside of our own nation, culture, or history?
Only when we accept the fact that the world is never exactly as we see it through our individual lens of perception will we be able to accept ourselves or the mystery that is life itself.
We have a choice. We can spend our whole life suffering because we can't relax with how things really are, or we can relax and embrace the open-endedness of the human situation, which is fresh, unfixated, unbiased.
They spent pork-barrel money like a tidal-wave sea, but no funds trickled down far enough to reach me. Our books numbered few and were falling apart, and I sat mending pages with a crestfallen heart.
If we fail to understand the biblical story of Jesus, we will compromise our prophetic interpretations of the end-times. And that's exactly what we've done.
There was a saying in our family that no one ever died; people just dried up, were hung on a hook, and conducted their affairs from there.
Yet some men say in many parts of England that King Arthur is not dead, but had by the will of our Lord Jesu into another place; and men say that he shall come again, and he shall win the holy cross.
We Christians must build all of our thinking in every area on the Bible. We must start with God's Word, not the word of finite, fallible man. We must judge what people say on the basis of what God's Word says—not the other way around.
When “doctrinal integrity” (a term usually defined by those using it) trumps kindness and grace, faith has wandered out of bounds. Anything claiming to be truth that does not lead to compassion for our neighbors cannot rightfully be called the tr...
We’re a different sort of thief here, Lamora. Deception and misdirection are our tools. We don’t believe in hard work when a false face and a good line of bullshit can do so much more.
We must go out to Pure Life, Pure Truth, Pure Love, and that is the definition of God. He is the ultimate goal of life; from Him we came, and in Him alone do we find our peace.
