Music burst through him, perfect notes he hear rarely. Fire and ice, wind and calm, sky and earth, water and rock all fused together. Joley seemed as wild and turbulent s the sea, yet beneath her fiery passion, at the very core of her, she was as for...
A few years have gone and come around when we were sittin' at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee. Take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle; the whole town came and our mammas cried. And you said "I do."...
Where are you hiding my love? Each day without you will never come again. Even today you missed a sunset on the ocean, A silver shadow on yellow rocks I saved for you, A squirrel that ran across the road, A duck diving for dinner. My God! There may b...
Thank god for Vegas. Seriously. A lobotomy wasn’t as effective as a weekend three hours of Red Bull away (from LA, not Pismo) where I wore the thinnest pinned stilettos, gambled like a sweaty degenerate mobster in black loafers, drank like Amy Wine...
The movies, I thought, have got the soundtrack to war all wrong. War isn't rock 'n' roll. It's got nothing to do with Jimi Hendrix or Richard Wagner. War is nursery rhymes and early Madonna tracks. War is the music from your childhood. Because war, w...
She was silent; the great wings almost stopped moving; only a delicate stirring seemed to keep them aloft. "Listen, then," Mrs. Whatsit said. The resonant voice rose and the words seemed to be all around them so that Meg felt that she could almost re...
It had nothing to do with gear or footwear or the backpacking fads or philosophies of any particular era or even with getting from point A to point B. It had to do with how it felt to be in the wild. With what it was like to walk for miles with no re...
Selfish as this sounds, I meant what I said earlier,” he finally says. I try to remember what he said, but everything is kind of a blur. “Which part?” “The ‘I’m glad you came tonight’ part.” So I’m not imagining the nudging or the s...
It's a great paradox and a great injustice that writers write because we fear death and want to leave something indestructable in our wake, and at the same time, are drawn to things that kill: whiskey and cigarette, unprotected sex and deep fried bur...
My love is like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June: My love is like the melody That's sweetly played in tune. How fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in love am I; And I will love thee still, my dear, Till all the seas gang dry. Till all ...
How do we stay on the narrow path of following God's will in every sphere of life? How do we maintain sure footing and not fall into the temptation of rebellion on one side, or the temptation of legalism on the other? God has not sent us out across a...
The mother memories that are closest to my heart are the small gentle ones that I have carried over from the days of my childhood. They are not profound, but they have stayed with me through life, and when I am very old, they will still be near . . ....
And here lies the crux of the matter: to say that nature is personal may mean not so much seeing the world differently as acting differently -- or, to state it another way, it may mean interacting with more-than-human others in nature as if those oth...
So they were pen pals now, Emma composing long, intense letters crammed with jokes and underlining, forced banter and barely concealed longing; two-thousand-word acts of love on air-mail paper. Letters, like compilation tapes, were really vehicles fo...
A breeze stirred Dovewing's pelt, as is someone had walked past. She lifted her head an saw two figures standing just beyond her Clanmates. One was a badger with a narrow, striped face, the other a grotesque, hairless cat who's blind, bulging eyes sa...
Last Saturday night I was in a club on the South Side of Chicago listening to live rock music and talking to a guitar playing veteran of the music scene in the city. He looked and talked like the musicians that I recall from my childhood; he was a th...
Vanessa Loring: What are you saying? Mark Loring: That it feels a little like bad timing. Vanessa Loring: What would be a good time for you, Mark? Mark Loring: There's just some things that I still want to do. Vanessa Loring: Like what? Be a rock sta...
Kristoff: Hey guys! Anna: They're... rocks. Kristoff: [off in the distance] You are a sight for sore eyes. Olaf: [whispering] He's crazy! Kristoff: Hey, whoa, I don't even recognize you. You've lost so much weight. Olaf: [whispering to Anna] I'll dis...
Young Simba: Hey, Uncle Scar, guess what? Scar: I despise guessing games. Young Simba: I'm gonna be King of Pride Rock. Scar: Oh, goody. Young Simba: My dad just showed me the whole kingdom. And I'm gonna rule it all. Heheh. Scar: Yes. Well, forgive ...
Major Tom Baxter: We're asking them. We're asking them for a new deadline. General Hummel: Put the phone down. Major Tom Baxter: The men are falling apart! General Hummel: The men are Marines! Major Tom Baxter: Are they? [Hummel is silent] Major Tom ...
FBI Director Womack: Great job, Goodspeed. Agent Paxton: Why don't you throw in a trip to Tahiti while you're at it? FBI Agent: Okay, I'll deliver this to the Attorney General... FBI Director Womack: [Interrupts and takes the contract from Hunt] Ah, ...
