Of course, of course. Mr. Buzzby, did it ever occur to you that a god may live, figuratively, a dog's life?' 'Eh?' 'Gods are transfigured, you know. They go up in smoke, as it were. In smoke and flame. They become pure flame, pure spirit, creatures w...
Mile's fingers pressed into the small of my back. "Basorexia," he mumbled. "Gesundheit." He laughed. "It's an overwhelming desire to kiss." "I thought you weren't good at figuring out what you felt." "I'm probably using the word in the wrong context....
I've been trying not to think about the things I wanted but couldn't have. I figured life must be about what you can't have. Some part of me has given up wanting anything. Why? I'm human, aren't I? Even though I knew that this was pointless. Why did ...
Maybe we all just exist, all versions of us exist at times, and we have to figure out a way to get to each of them, to find each one and tell that version that it's okay, that it's all justthe way it works, a concept too powerful to ignore but too co...
In trying to escape the fatality of memory, he discovered with an immense sadness that pursuing the past inevitably only leads to greater loss. To hold a gesture, a smell, a smile was to cast it as one fixed thing, a plaster death mask, which as soon...
Love or hatred calls for self-surrender. He cuts a fine figure, the warm-blooded, prosperous man, solidly entrenched in his well-being, who one fine day surrenders all to love—or to hatred; himself, his house, his land, his memories.
From across the bar, I saw her see me seeing her see me, and I knew that she knew, and with all this knowledge and vision I figured it must be love. But I could be wrong, because it turns out that I need glasses.
Kissing Red must've killed off some of your brain cells," Ryder decided. "You can tell a woman what to do---if you play it right---and maybe, half the time she'd do it, or something close to it. That's a live woman. A dead one? I figure that's closer...
Reading requires actual . If you skipped a paragraph, or even an important sentence, you could lose the entire story. With most TV shows, though, you didn't have to concentrate at all. You could space out for a good ten minutes, then come back and st...
What is your name?" she murmured. He cocked an eyebrow at her and then went back to staring at his brother. "I'm the evil one, in case you haven't figured it out." "I wanted your name, not your calling." "Being a bastard's more of a compulsion, reall...
Kids are kids and not little adults. They're watching and listening to you all the time. They're figuring out the game plan but still don't know all the rules. Talk straight to them and they'll respect you for it.
I figured out why I have such big hands. It’s to hold all the love I have to offer the world. So don’t get mad at me when I make you bring in all the groceries, because my hands are already full.
The clocks were striking midnight and the rooms were very still as a figure glided quietly from bed to bed, smoothing a coverlid here, settling a pillow there, and pausing to look long and tenderly at each unconscious face, to kiss each with lips tha...
If you can think of your lover in six senses, then I'd say you're nailed. They've got themselves wrapped around your heart. And your cock. (...) Six senses? (...) Sight, sound, taste, scent, touch, and the other, that thing you can't figure out that ...
In fifteen hundred years someone will figure out a way to squeeze black juice out of the yellow sand, and that will get everyone very excited. Some people who were rich already will get a lot richer, and some people who were poor will be told that th...
I have a funny side. I have a soft and sympathetic side. I have a serious side, and a seriously romantic side. I have lots of sides; it's the main course I haven't quite figured out.
With a tough decision, the act of flipping a coin allows you to figure out which you really prefer, because as the coin is spinning, you find yourself slightly pulling for either heads or tails. No need to follow the coin’s outcome—choose the sid...
Why can’t I just be bad?” I asked, figuring my mom would have no idea what I was talking about. “Well, that’s easy, sweetie. You can be anything you want, but when you go against who you are inside, it doesn’t feel good.
You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking;— if the first, I should...
In that house, you will find my heart. You must break in, Henri, and get it back for me.' Was she mad? We had been talking figuratively. Her heart was in her body like mine. I tried to explain this to her, but she took my hand and put it against her ...
Wrong, and wrong agains,' he said. 'The likeness is already there. The metaphor only sees it. And it is not a mere figure of speech. It is the very essence of our minds as we seek to make sense of our surroundings, our experiences, ourselves, seeing ...
