How does the ordinary person come to the transcendent? For a start, I would say, study poetry. Learn how to read a poem. You need not have the experience to get the message, or at least some indication of the message. It may come gradually. (92)
She pointed to the wreckage of one of the frigates in the distance. Half the ship had landed atop one of the towers on the edge of the city, the other half on the flatland beyond. “You didn’t…do that, did you?” He shrugged with proper dramati...
The world needs more laws. I say this only because I believe the world needs more lawyers. If everybody was a lawyer, there’d be no unemployment, because the economy would be like a great lawsuit factory. Farmers in this utopia wouldn’t raise cro...
It may well be that we will have to repent in this generation. Not merely for the vitriolic words and the violent actions of the bad people, but for the appalling silence and indifference of the good people who sit around and say, "Wait on time.
It is my wish to die of unique causes, perhaps in a high-speed tricycle crash, a bizarre stapling incient, or as a result of inadvertently sucking my brains out through my ear while trying to untwist the vacuum hose.
I’ll work hard to win fame and recognition from the public, and then I’ll work hard to remain anonymous and unrecognizable and become as private as a hermit. I’ll be hermaphroditic with my notoriety, embodying both ends of the spectrum as I ...
I think I just inhaled a cloud shaped like the ghost of my grandpa, and all I have to say is grandma smelled better.
Her face expressed suffering so deep that I will never forget it; her eyes radiated a deep sadness...Mrs. Folmer was oppressed by that special sadness, perhaps the most horrible torture, of those who had no idea what happened to their loved ones.
If I were a waiter, and a bald guy complained there was a hair in his food, I’d say, “Keep it, compliments of the house. We all pitched in to give you that. Too bad we couldn’t come up with 80,000 more.
I am prophetic. I predicted it would snow tomorrow yesterday, and sure enough today it snowed. True, I’ve been saying it will snow tomorrow every day since June, but as you can see, my fortune telling prowess is improving.
(Thinking while being interrogated by the Germans) You big shots think you can decide on my life, but I have news for you: you can't touch a hair on my head without the will of God my Father, because He is on my side.
I want to make a coffee table that consists of a slab of wood supported by four crutches. That way, if a guest ever comes up to me and says, "I accidentally broke one of the legs on your coffee table," I could respond, "Don't worry, those legs are se...
Five sicks people in the hospital (56). I made each one a “Get well soon” card saying I was sorry for coughing in their general direction on the 4th of November, and I hope that wasn’t a contributing factor for their illnesses.
Love is saying yes when you really feel like telling them no. That’s why when she asked if I’d marry her, I replied, “If you pick the place, I’ll pick the date.” She wants Paris, and I want March 5th 2082.
When I say ‘practice’ I don’t mean repeating an act until you get it right. In this use, it means to instill regular discipline to accomplish a specific task, ritual without which we feel incomplete, or that our experience of each day is less.
I just have a hard time with small talk. My friend Jocelyn says I'm too quiet. But I'm really not quiet. I just tend to come across that way to new people because I don't like to talk first. What if the other person doesn't want to be bothered?
The wind blew at hurricane speeds, so I held my breath, thinking every exhalation was contributing to the accelerating breeze. I was too busy saving my breath and saving lives to say I loved her, and she ended up leaving me for a storm chaser.
They don't take the Bible as a general thing, sailors don't; though I will say that I never saw the man at sea who didn't give it the credit of being an uncommon good yarn. ("Kentucky's Ghost")
She imagined herself whirling breathlessly beneath the flashing lights of some impossibly chic Manhattan disco. Suddenly, a hand touches her arm. She turns. ‘Pardon me,’ Mick Jagger says, 'I believe this next dance is mine.
True, nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am, but why will say that I am mad?! The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute.
Oh, that's just great. I come all the way back here, risking major brain cell burnout, and you don't even believe me? I'm basically guaranteeing myself a lifetime of heartbreak, and all you have to say is that you think I'm not right in the head?
