Just a month after the completion of the Declaration of Independence, at a time when he delegates might have been expected to occupy themselves with more pressing concerns -like how they were going to win the war and escape hanging- Congress quite ex...
Only one thing to it: a strong stomach. The guts to gladhand a man you're going to stab in the back; pledge allegiance to principles you stomp on every day; righteously denounce some despot in the press and sell him arms under the table. The talent t...
He takes my face in his hands and presses his lips against mine – a tender, beautiful kiss – the kiss I’ve waited for forever. He quickly pulls his shirt over his head and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of his muscular body and smo...
I speak it to God: I don't really want 'more' time; I just want 'enough' time. Time to breathe deep and time to see real and time to laugh long, time to give You glory and rest deep and sing joy and just enough time in a day not to feel hounded, pres...
Once again, I was conscious of the paradox of the compound: that here, at the heart of the unfolding events, we could catch no more than a glimpse of them. Fires were burning all over Dili; the smell was in our nostrils from the moment we wok up, and...
Whatever is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain, and danger, that is to say, whatever is in any sort terrible, or is conversant about terrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is a source of the sublime; that is, it is...
I had waited so long to touch him. I was like a kid in a candy store. I backed him into the cabinets and pressed myself against his lean body. Gabe was breathing hard and he grinned. “Goodness, Purdie Magee.” "What?" I said. "I'm a little surpris...
I'm silenced by his right hand cupping my chin and ear, his left hand flattening against my ribs as he gently pushes me back against the wall. I can feel the brick pressing into my naked upper back, cold and rough. His kiss is slow, tender...firm. Hi...
I knew right then you were the only one for me." He pulled her hand from his face, kissed her palm, then pressed it flat against his chest. "Beatings, battles, fights. No matter how bleak the circumstance, no matter how my soul despaired ... this hea...
I tried to concentrate on the angel's voice instead. "Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, please, Bella, please!" he begged. Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn't find my lips. "Carlisle!" the angel called, agony in his perfe...
Your mother holds you skin on skin and when you enter this world, feeds you with her own body; skin on skin. Your father runs his fingers over your tear stained cheek, presses his lips to your forehead; skin on skin. You make love, skin on skin with ...
Victor wrapped his fingers over my hand, pressing his face against my palm. “You’re the bravest girl I’ve ever met. I’m so incredibly proud of you.” “Who knew that one day the word someone would use to describe me is brave. Life is very u...
Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed? Can the writer isolate and vivify all in experience that most deeply engages our intellects and our heats? Can the writer renew our hope for liter...
Every motion she made was slow, as if she’d never before put her arms around a man, and didn’t know for certain where everything fit. When at last they were pressed close, she didn’t think she’d know how to let go when the time came. They sum...
When 'Dirty Mack' salts your flow, get beyond feelings of hurt, anger, bitterness, and especially vengeance. Be glad, and take refuge in knowing light has been cast on the shadow of hatred, envy or jealousy that has mocked your shine. And press forwa...
You know,” I fold my arms over my chest. “You’re quite annoying, but I guess your company is better than no company.” Keegan presses his arm against the wall beside my head and smiles. His curly black hair stands out against his pale skin. Th...
If you focus your eyes towards the horizon, everything and everyone walking in front of you becomes a blurry mass. That's what everyone else became. All of their dark wool suits began to mesh into one, and they began to rhythmically march in unison, ...
To struggle against censorship, whatever its nature, and whatever the power under which it exists, is my duty as a writer, as are calls for freedom of the press. I am a passionate supporter of that freedom, and I consider that if any writer were to i...
And then she fell into his arms. It was what he’d dreamed of on sleepless nights, holding her, feeling the press of her breasts to his chest, the flare of her hips in his hands. He forgot all about where they were, why they were alone together. He ...
He finished tying the knot and looked me in the face and I felt my gaze fall from his eyes to his lips and back again. "Why are you giving it back to me?" I asked. He pressed his thumb to my bottom lip and I heard an intake of air. That was me, I tho...
...Bhutan all but bases its identity upon its loneliness, and its refusal to b assimilated into India, or Tibet, or Nepal. Vietnam, at present, is a pretty girl with her face pressed up against the window of the dance hall, waiting to be invited in; ...
