Loving my son, building my son, touching my son, playing with my son, being with my son… these aren’t tasks that only super dads can perform. These are tasks that every dad should perform. Always. Without fail.
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...
When you live countless stories in which you play a sedentary role, it's an odd feeling to switch stories.
All this security and prospects are different for different people. Somebody is happy playing music and with a less pay, somebody is secure in the corporate world with a high pay with headache. We have individual tastes, tastes are not universal.
scary mommy confession #80920 " I invited you into my home as a guest. And you brought my two year old permanent markers and play-doh. next time I visit you, I'm bringing your teenage daughter condoms and crack.
The Dispatcher had played with his phones, calling from one to the other. Then he put them all down and announced that he had them on "hold," a curious expression since it was the first time in half an hour he hadn't been holding one.
Over the road there was a church: a modern gray building, which constantly played a recording of church bells. Strange it was. Why no proper bells? I never went in but I bet it was a robot church for androids, where the Bible was in binary and their ...
The most sublime labour of poetry is to give sense and passion to insensate things; and it is characteristic of children to take inanimate things in their hands and talk to them in play as if they were living persons... This philological-philosophica...
Welcome to His poem. His play. His novel. Skip the bowls of fruit and statues. Let the page flick your thumbs. This is His spoken word.
I need a tube-shaped bathtub, to play the tuba in. I make love like I make music—in a shower that’s in a phone booth that’s in 1981, the year before I was born.
I know I love her, because when I see her my heart beats like a drum. If she played guitar and sang, we could start a band.
In the three minutes it takes the song to play I'm caught in a magic world of harmony and joy, a truly ecstatic joy, where the aching longing to be somewhere else, out of this city, out of this country, out of this body and out of this life, is kept ...
I turn away, tempted to punch the glass. I'm in the gratest danger of my life, and I'm playing with my hair and wondering if the boy I can't have-and refuse to let myself want-thinks I'm pretty.
As is often the case with children, the rule of ‘monkey see, monkey do’ plays out in the workplace. It’s hard to be good role model, and it’s one of the greatest challenges of leadership.
The thing about negotiations, not to mention the manipulation, is you can't go too far in any direction. Refusing once is good, twice is usually okay but a third is risky. You never know when the third person will stop playing and you end up with not...
I walk alone, absorbed in my fantastic play, — Fencing with rhymes, which, parrying nimbly, back away; Tripping on words, as on rough paving in the street, Or bumping into verses I long had dreamed to meet.
One thinks of nothing,’ he continued; ‘the hours slip by. Motionless we traverse countries we fancy we see, and your thought, blinding with the fiction, playing with the details, follows the outline of the adventures. It mingles with the characte...
It was nothing. We played tic-tac-toe for a while. You know we do that sometimes." "Oh, I know," Teagan says. "Okay, how did you make that sound like we were rolling around ripping off each other's clothes?
I had nothing to contribute. I played no part. I was on the edge. Different. Alone. Everything around me, grey. It was the same old feeling, back again. I was in the middle of the group but I might as well have been a million miles away from these pe...
The flowers which played then among the grass, the water which rippled past in the sunshine, the whole landscape which served as environment to their apparition lingers around the memory of them still with its unconscious or unheeding air;...
The other day I went to the Huddle House. I wasn’t hungry, I just wanted to call some plays.
