We as humans are the patterns of life. We are the roads we travel. Our lives make up the insignificance of a moment of the importance of a second. The choices we make are everything. I realize that, now that everything has changed and I'm a different...
In my book, the media are a necessary evil: they live off the animal inside us, they bait the front pages with second-hand blood for the hyenas to snuffle up, but they come in useful enough that you want to stay on their good side.
I think it's our obligation to play, Honor. It's just a game, so can I kiss you?” "Yes." "Plan on one minute in heaven, Honor." A split second later his lips were on hers.
There are three reasons why men of genius have long hair. One is, that they forget it is growing. The second is, that they like it. The third is, that it comes cheaper; they wear it long for the same reason they wear their hats long.
No,’ Nico said. ‘Getting a second life is one thing. Making it a better life, that’s the trick.’ As soon as he said it, Nico realized he could’ve been talking about himself. He decided not to bring that up.
No second chances. It's not so much about morality, but about my inability to forgive. I am a champion grudge holder, and I don't think I could change this about myself even if I wanted to.
When I was a kid, I would watch the grands prix. Everyone dreamt of becoming a race driver, while I only started thinking about it when I was 18 or 19. Only at that age did I seriously start thinking about this job. Before then, I would change ideas ...
See, the 'On the Road' that came out in 1957 was censored. A lot of the honesty of it, the bitter honesty, is in the original scroll version that came out in 2007 on the 50-year anniversary. Back then, there was so much post-Second World War fear tha...
Idolatry involves putting the things we love in the place of God or seeing God as a means of getting the things that we want, and that's the second great struggle of our lives.
You got a choice, dude. We've all got choices. Lots of them. Every single second of the day we're making choices. You've just been making bad ones, is all.
One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washèd it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.
life is delicate, its fragile, it's a precious thing. you never know when you're going to lose it. Live life when you can because you never know which second will be your last.
You’re injured.” He flicks his chin at my bleeding leg. “We need to get that cleaned up.” “It’ll be fine,” I wave it off. “My mom will descend upon me with a bottle of peroxide the second I hit the door.
I think Jay is in import and export business as his cards say, but he finally found that the second most valuable commodity today is information." "And?" "The most valuable?" "People with information," I suggested.
After passionately nursing this idea for about an hour, I suddenly had another idea: no I wouldn't. Of course I wouldn't make an entire city out of cereal boxes in the basement. The moment I had this second thought, I knew this was the real one.
Fiction that adds up, that suggests a "logical consistency," or an explanation of some kind, is surely second-rate fiction; for the truth of life is its mystery.
Like a word on a page that you’ve printed and read a million times, that suddenly looks strange or wrong, foreign. And you feel scared for a second, like you’ve lost something, even if you’re not sure what it is.
Daniel?” The throaty question had him closing the space between them, pulling her closer into his embrace. “The way you say my name, that was the second mistake. You haven’t closed your heart yet.
I thought of how proud he was when he took the marks- cutting the skin of his throat in a long slash and then packing it with ashes until keloid scars rose up. He called it his second smile.
Feeling like I had to lose you for the second time...” He shook his head, and I thought I saw tears under his eyes. “I don’t think I could bear it. You’re everything to me, Elizabeth.
This is a massive world, I think, and in each centimeter of it, a different drama unfolds every second of the day. But we live on as if the next moment in our lives will be no different than the last. How foolish we all are.
