A boy said,“Everybody is my friend.”Beloved said,“No, not everybody can be your friend.” Boy said, “Each one of them is gifted to teach me something new in my life.” Beloved said, “I still don’t agree.” Boy again smilingly said, “...
The value of the student’s question is supreme. The best initial response to a question is not to answer it, per se, but to validate it, protect it, support it, and make a space for it. Like a blossom just emerging, a question is vulnerable and del...
To be good, is to be like God. Our purpose in life is to try and reach that standard. We will always fall short, but in our lifetime if we try our best to make a world where everyone is treated equally with respect, empathy, and compassion, the big p...
Words are great, but even I can admit they have certain short-comings. No word can ever give justice to a smile from a man who never smiled or to an old woman who gives up her seat on the bus to a soldier who lost his leg. And I’m still convinced t...
Embrace it. Live it. Life's too short. Even looking at it from my end, when I've had more chances than many, I wish--actually even more so now--that I could go back and tinker with a few things...do a little more of this, a little less of that. But t...
Human relationships were strange. I mean, you were with one person a while, eating and sleeping and living with them, loving them, talking to them, going places together, and then it stopped. Then there was a short period when you weren't with anybod...
My non-negotiable list remains short. I want a man who loves God, others and me. That’s it. If he loves God, he will be kind and respectful and thoughtful. If he loves others, he will be a servant, generous and loyal. If he loves me, he will have a...
From the baking aisle to the post office line to the wrapping paper bin in the attic, women populate every dark corner of Christmas. Who got up at 4 a.m. to put the ham in the oven? A woman. . . . Who sent the Christmas card describing her eighteen-y...
I went into the living room and looked down at my mother’s torn body and shook my head. It was surreal. I guess some people in that situation would have crumbled, some would have cried, but I’d emotionally disconnected from life a long time ago. ...
In a proud fatherly sadomasicisticly way, I am thrilled when I get hit. As every deep purple bruise on my body represented a perfect swing. If I were to lift my shirt at any time there would be 4-5 bruises on my body. ... As soon as I was able to, I ...
Not everyone understands what a completely rational process this is, this maintenance of a motorcycle. They think it's some kind of "knack" or some kind of "affinity for machines" in operation. They are right, but the knack is almost purely a process...
And so, when I began to read the proffered pages, I at one moment lost the train of thought in the text and drowned it in my own feelings. In these seconds of absence and self-oblivion, centuries passed with every read but uncomprehended and unabsorb...
He finished tying the knot and looked me in the face and I felt my gaze fall from his eyes to his lips and back again. "Why are you giving it back to me?" I asked. He pressed his thumb to my bottom lip and I heard an intake of air. That was me, I tho...
I think the idea of a soul mate is too romanticised, Don't get me wrong; romance is bliss, but to me, A soul mate is something so much more. It is possibility when hope falls short, it is waking on a Monday excited for breakfast - because it's with t...
His [Thomas Edison] method was inefficient in the extreme, for an immense ground had to be covered to get anything at all unless blind chance intervened and, at first, I was almost a sorry witness of his doings, knowing that just a little theory and ...
I've written about 2,000 short stories; I've only published 300 and I feel I'm still learning. Any man who keeps working is not a failure. He may not be a great writer, but if he applies the old fashioned virtues of hard, constant labor, he'll eventu...
He was still a kid inside. His body had grown, stretched, towered, tanned its skin, hardened its muscle, darkened its tawny shock of long hair, tightened its lines around jaw and eyes, thickened fingers and knuckles, but the brain didn't feel as if i...
It may be that writers in my position,exiles, or emigrants or expatriates, are haunted by some sense of loss, some urge to reclaim, to look back, even at the risk of being mutilated into pillars of salt. But if we do look back, we must do in the know...
Child, child, love while you can The voice and the eyes and the soul of a man; Never fear though it break your heart- Out of the wound new joy will start; Only love proudly and gladly and well, Though love be heaven or love be hell. Child, child, lov...
Tim Minchin's musings on Tony, the first 'fish' ever to have feet: Imagine what Tony would think, standing there on his brand new feet on the brink of the beginnings of mankind as we know it... if he could look forward just a few short... hundreds of...
I love our summer game and its letters as much as the next man, and surely no less than my colleagues. I do not, however, repose much faith in its fiction. The short stories are fair to middling, and Conan Doyle, Wodehouse and Ian Peebles have contri...
