Cheney, Rumsfeld - they were Shakespearean in their attitude of impunity.
A winner never stops trying.
George Wendt is a saint. And one of the finest American actors that we have.
Nixon was no more a saint than he was a great president.
I'm no saint. I'm no angel. I never proclaimed to be.
Intuition is reason in a hurry.
De-calcify the pineal gland with the detergent of imagination
I have played a few lay saints in my time.
That's what the holidays are for - for one person to tell the stories and another to dispute them. Isn't that the Irish way?
Choose your love, Love your choice.
There is a shortage of doctors, and the American Medical Association is aiming to keep it that way.
My mom was a saint. She taught me to be terminally nice.
Rocco: I'm the fuck outta here!
A man does not have to be an angel to be a saint.
Editors are licensed to be curious.
Why do you want to do this?" he asked curiously. "Why is this woman so important to you?" Saint-Germain blinked in surprise. "Have you ever loved anyone?" he asked. "Yes," Tamnuz said cautiously, "I had a consort once, Inanna..." "But did you love he...
Now love doesn't stop at death - or if it does, it's a pretty poor sort of love! In fact, grief could almost be defined as the form love takes when the object of love has been removed; it is love embracing an empty space, love kissing thin air and fe...
Ever since Plato most philosophers have considered it part of their business to produce ‘proofs’ of immortality and the existence of God. They have found fault with the proofs of their predecessors — Saint Thomas rejected Saint Anselm's proofs,...
Sometimes the things that are felt the most are expressed between two souls over the distance and over time...where no words abide. And others may speak freely, live with one another freely, express themselves freely– just like everyone else, but t...
For as long as I could remember, other people had either overshadowed me or left me out in the open, alone. But Mac, as Layla had said all those weeks ago, was always somewhere nearby. He left me enough space to stand alone, but stood at the ready fo...
For some reason, the despair that's welling up in me is transforming into white-hot rage. I feel it working its way up from my toes, winding around my legs, and burrowing into the pit of my stomach. It spears its razor-sharp tendrils through the piec...
