sometimes falling rain carries memories of betrayal there in the woods where she was not meant to be too young she believes in her right to be free in her body free from harm believing nature a wilderness she can enter be solaced believing the power ...
I wonder if ever again Americans can have that experience of returning to a home place so intimately known, profoundly felt, deeply loved, and absolutely submitted to? It is not quite true that you can't go home again. I have done it, coming back her...
If a person shows anger to you, and you show anger in return, the result is disaster. If you nurse hatred, you will never be happy, even in the lap of luxury. By contrast, if you control your anger and show its opposite - love, compassion, tolerance,...
Is Dust immortal then, I ask'd him, so that we may see it blowing through the Centuries? But as Walter gave no Answer I jested with him further to break his Melancholy humour: What is Dust, Master Pyne? And he reflected a little: It is particles of M...
I had a dream about you. I was a shoe salesman and you had no feet. I needed to make a sale or I’d be fired, and you needed reliable transportation. I suggested you buy shoes from me and for me, and in return I’d give you a piggyback ride. In the...
I had a dream about you. It was New Year’s Eve. I remember because we celebrated my birthday on March 5th. You gave me a gift, and we argued over whether it was late or early. I let you win the debate. And by win I mean I kept the gift but gave you...
The world was a terrible place, cruel, pitiless, dark as a bad dream. Not a good place to live. Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness - and love. Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you security and friendship and didn't ask...
Unlike me, he realized that Dustfinger would do anything in return for such a promise. All he wants is to go back to his own world. He doesn't even stop to ask if his story there has a happy ending!" "Well, that's no different from real life," remark...
I see what I want of Love... I see horses making the meadow dance, fifty guitars sighing, and a swarm of bees suckling the wild berries, and I close my eyes until I see our shadow behind this dispossessed place... I see what I want of people: their d...
[On writing Jeeves and Wooster stories]: You tell yourself that you can take Jeeves stories or leave them alone, that one more can't possibly hurt you, because you know you can pull up whenever you feel like it, but it is merely wish-full thinking. T...
It is a very strange sensation to inexperience youth to feel itself quite alone the world, cut adrift from every connection, uncertain whether the port to which it is bound can be reached, and prevented by many impediments from returning to that it h...
The porter spends his days in the Library keeping strict vigil over this catacomb of books, passing along between the shelves and yet never paying heed to the almost audible susurrus of desire- the desire every book has to be taken down and read, to ...
LIKE MOTHER, LIKE LOVER There is the mother Who cooks too much To feed her children, And there is the mother Who cooks too little, Or not at all. There is the bird That returns to its nest With just a frail worm And feeds it to her babies, And there ...
You get a kick out of shocking the pants off me, don’t you?” I shook my head with a smirk. He just shrugged with a playful smile, his eyes momentarily flitting toward my pants before returning to meet my gaze. “It’s an expression,” I rolled...
It was not the goal that really concerned us, the journey was the thing. Who ever reaches any goal? From what journey can we return? We know of the poverty about us, of the work and worry, but we know of a degree of freedom, of a stunted beauty. We h...
Shelves full of books are all around me. Opening the different volumes I take a look, and find the pages covered with writings in unknown scripts — tadpole traces, bird feet markings, twisted branches. And in my dream I am able to read them all, to...
What one means by integrity, in the case of the novelist, is the conviction that he gives one that this is the truth. . . . When one so exposes it [integrity] and sees it come to life one exclaims in rapture, But this is what I have always felt and k...
The others can’t see me,” said the little ghost. “I know,” I said. “My name’s Gwyneth. What’s yours?” “Dr. White to you,” said Dr. White. “I’m Robert,” said the ghost. “That’s a very nice name,” I said. “Thank you,�...
Lear, Macbeth. Mercutio – they live on their own as it were. The newspapers are full of them, if we were only the Shakespeares to see it. Have you ever been in a Police Court? Have you ever watched tradesmen behind their counters? My soul, the secr...
She reached up to place her fingertips to his lips as she stared up at him with a warm, tender expression. "I wish you had come home to me so that I could have helped you." He pulled the cloth away from her face and stared at her for a hard second. "...
He returned to his seat and sat down; the road is so long, so long; he had to get through these spaces where stations clustered about the track amidst the black night like some black coffin set with candles. He thought that minute was flying after mi...
