Woods are grim places. Farmers shoot squirrels, crows, magpies, and hang them up on trees to warn Mother Nature to get it together or else. Much notice she takes, being in league with God. They're a right pair, more carnage than the rest of us put to...
We act out our lives to a soundtrack, thought Isabel, the music that becomes, for a spell, out favourite and is listened to again and again until it stands for the time itself. But that was about all the scripting that we achieved; the rest, for most...
My eyes bulged out of my head as I saw what rested between his hips. “Good Lord!” I said without thinking. A forked penis will do that to a girl. He glanced down at the appendage and smiled knowingly. “Once you go demon you never go back.
If my words don't flow out of a heart that rests in God's control, sovereignty, then they come out of the heart that seeks control so I can get what I want.
As students of the silver screen recall, Bogart's admonition about future regret led Bergman to board the plane and fly away with her husband. Had she stayed with Bogey in Casablanca, she would probably have felt just fine. Not right away, perhaps, b...
I've come to believe that we, as people, only tend to remember only certain of what we hear or read just for that reason. Most of what we retain coincide with our personal beliefs and feelings and the rest, we throw away into the back of our minds wh...
You're right, Norah, anything can happen, anytime. But what goes wrong isn't your fault. You can't spend the rest of your life tiptoeing around to try and avert disaster. It won't work. You'll just end up missing the life you have.
There is an undeniable truth that as one progresses further in his understanding of a craft the rest of his life progresses along with it. This symbiotic relationship between all things is experienced on a daily basis, but rarely articulated through ...
She just smiled, said that she loved books more than anything, and started telling him excitedly what each of the ones in her lap was about. And Ove realised that he wanted to hear her talking about the things she loved for the rest of his life.
There is no steady unretracing progress in this life; we do not advance through fixed gradations, and at the last one pause: - through infancy's unconscious spell, boyhood's thoughtless faith, adolescence' doubt (the common doom). and then scepticism...
The seeker after stillness should be told that the stillness is always there. Indeed it is in every man. But he has to learn, first, to let it in and, second, how to do so. The first beginning of this is to remember. The second is to recognize the in...
I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd be up for hearing about the one-eyed chick," Vida said with a shrug. "You are atually the worst person I have ever met," Chubs said. "And people like you are the reason we have middle fingers.
All I feel are the assaults of apprehension and terror at the thought that I am the only one who is entirely unlike the rest. It is almost impossible for me to converse with other people. What should I talk about, how should I say it? - I don't know.
Because we live in a democracy, and the people can't govern themselves well if they don't know the truth about the world we live in. What if our rich citizens never hear of the poverty and suffering of the rest of the city? Why should they ever give ...
You never seem to run out of ways to blow my mind, Lexie. You’re my best friend, and you’re the one woman I can imagine spending the rest of my life with. Do you know how lucky that makes me?
Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, ...
Oh, the comfort — the inexpressible comfort of feeling with a person — having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift...
Crying had made her want a shoulder on which to rest her head, arms to hold her. She'd wasted too many tears alone in her room, her garden, walking along the shore, praying for God to send her someone to share her sorrows along with her joys.
Did you have fun? How many boys did you make out with? Seventy. At least. How many shots did you take? Fourteen. I let go of the wheel halfway home and Jesus drove me the rest of the way.
Don’t you know that’s what college is about...students spending years gathering useless information they’ll never use again, going hopelessly into debt, just so they feel smarter than the rest of their family? I mean, that’s why I worked so h...
This is Lonesome Ridge, so we’d be the lonesome young,” I pointed out. “Sounds like a song.” “Sounds like a heartache,” he said, tightening his arms around me and resting his cheek on the top of my heard. “I don’t want to be lonesome....
