I don’t know . . . we seemed to click right away, you know? And he’s so kind but determined to protect you and me both, and well, he’s nice to look at. Even with the “scar. It’s kind of sexy.” I chuckled. “Do you know how that scar got ...
Do not write. I am sad, and want my light put out. Summers in your absence are as dark as a room. I have closed my arms again. They must do without. To knock at my heart is like knocking at a tomb. Do not write! Do not write. Let us learn to die, as ...
Buzz: Terrain seems a bit unstable. No readout yet if the air is breathable. And there seems to be no sign of intelligent life anywhere. Woody: [sneaks up on Buzz] Hello! [Buzz yells. Woody screams. Buzz fires his "laser" at Woody] Woody: Hey hey! Wh...
Bill Sampson: Looks like I'm going to have a very fancy party... Margo Channing: I thought you were going to be late. Bill Sampson: When I'm guest of honor? Margo Channing: I had no idea you were even here. Bill Sampson: I ran into Eve on my way upst...
Quote from MOONLIGHT MAYHEM – pg 224 “Hero Intercedes”: His hands flickered upward, and before I knew it, they were cupping my face. So, damnably fast now. Demonic-like fast. Trent reeled me closer. Our foreheads joined. He held me, while I tre...
She lost her grip Heard a voice so familiar, she tripped Over the 1000 promises that lay on the floor 1000 and 1…there’s hardly room for more And everyone seems to know better Everyone seems to understand so much…but forget her Misplace the fac...
Dr. Breed keeps telling me the main thing with Dr. Hoenikker was truth.” “You don’t seem to agree.” “I don’t know whether I agree or not. I just have trouble understanding how truth, all by itself, could be enough for a person.
Time itself is a thing, so it seems to me, that stands solidly like a fence of iron palings with its endless row of years; and we flow past like Gyoll, on our way to a sea from which we shall return only as rain.
People twenty-five and up just sat around waiting to die. That was what I'd thought. So while I was waiting to die, I looked at bras. The last thing on my mind was comfort. It seemed to be the last thing on Victoria's Secret's mind, too.
That's sounds right. Another $5,000 went to dress up the Little League park where he had played so many games. Seems like he paid off the MORTAGE on his parents' home, which wasn't that much.
Arya did not dare [take a bath], even though she smelled as bad as Yoren by now, all sour and stinky. Some of the creatures living in her clothes had come all the way from Flea Bottom with her; it didn’t seem right to drown them.
Only the passionate were immortal, it seemed. If you fought, screwed, screamed, laughed, or otherwise experienced life intensely, for better or worse, you left a record. Those who lived a quiet, well-behaved, well-tempered life? Gone without a trace.
Without the hope of posterity, for our race if not for ourselves, without the assurance that we being dead yet live, all pleasures of the mind and senses sometimes seem to me no more than pathetic and crumbling defences shored up against our ruin.
If you have heard a Jewish cantor sing, if he has touched you and made your own sorrow seem trivial when compared with his, you will know my feeling when I follow the curves of her profile, like mobile rivers, to their common delta.
There was something about the smell of books, the ink-and-paper-and-leather scent, the way dust in a library seemed to behave differently from the dust in any other room -- it was golden in the light of the witchlight tapers, setting like pollen acro...
I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was ...
Troy smiled down at her, and her heart jumped into her throat. The lights turned his skin colors. Red, green, blue. Glimpses of every shade of Troy, and they all looked good. The song ended, and the world seemed to stop, just her and Troy, standing i...
Progress is something with no pity, and no purpose. It just happens. It chews up all you ever knew, and spits out things you can't understand, and the only value it seems to have is to make a few people a lot of money.
And it was so still. The silence of the fields seemed to enter and move familiarly through the house. The wind used the open hall. He felt that he was in a mysterious, quiet, cool danger. It was necessary to do what?...to talk. ("Death Of A Traveling...
But winter was necessary. Why else would the world have it? The trees seemed to welcome the season, from the way they changed colors before they dropped their leaves and went to sleep. Winter was a part of a cycle, like day and night, life and death.
They think I’m simpleminded because I seem to be happy. Why shouldn’t I be happy? I have everything I ever wanted and more. Maybe I am simpleminded. Maybe that’s the key: simple.
