Kathel, you have the face of a scoundrel." Her eyes drifted slowly over his face and landed for a moment on his full lips. "With lips created for sin." "Keirah," he whispered, gently squeezing her hands. "Talk like that is not helping matters.
Sorvus's eyes widened then fell as she accepted whatever fate had in store for her. "It will be as it will, Thristan." Thristan looked at her intently, bringing his head back with a frustrated sigh. "Ah, this 'destiny' crap you all talk about!
The books were a private part of me that I carried inside and guarded and didn't talk to anybody about; as long as I had the books I could convince myself I was different from the others and my life wasn't quite as stupid and pointless.
You talked to us about what kind of fifth-graders we wanted to be this year. How it was all in our choices, every minute of our days. How even grownups like you had to think about it sometimes, to be the person they wanted to be.
Character is beyond obligation. You could kick your shoes off at the door, flick your cigarete butts onto the sidewalk or talk only in slang, those things are forgivable if you have character
So this is what it's about? This is your mature response to go off into the mountains rather than talking about it and have s'mores with a gnome and a mountain man." "Yep" "What's your plan for tomorrow? Brunch with a unicorn?
One of the professors told me last week that he feels bad teaching with the way the economy is now. ‘What’s the point?’ he said. ‘Kids aren’t getting jobs.’ You never hear faculty talk that way. He did.
You talk as if a god had made the Machine," cried the other. "I believe that you pray to it when you are unhappy. Men made it, do not forget that. Great men, but men. The Machine is much, but not everything.
You always do this to people?" "Do what?" "Get them to empty their guts out just like that." "We do not have much time. We should only talk about what is important.
I once took a vow of silence that lasted almost two years. Then, on my second birthday, I relented and started talking.
When men learnt to talk in the beginning of the civilised word they used language not as a means of communication alone but as a means of excluding others--using it as a way of setting themselves apart and shutting out strangers.
...I only told you about it because I thought I might get a laugh out of you for once even if it wasn't the truth, Jessie. Things don't have to be true to talk about 'em, you know.
Death. It's around more than people realize. Because no one wants to talk about it or hear about it. It's too sad. Too painful. Too hard. The list of reasons is endless.
Although you can not hear my thoughts, Sam, I imagine I’m talking to you. Prayers to the brother who abandoned me. The day after you left Labrador, my honey started flowing. Is my body weeping for your loss?
No one likes to talk about the positive parts of getting older and aging into orphanhood, how with your parents you often bury a lot of things you were never able to confront or fix or let go of.
Want to have a short phone call with someone? Call them at 11:55 a.m., right before lunch. They'll talk fast. You may think you are interesting, but you are not more interesting than lunch.
Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works. I am praying. I'm talking to you, right? Oh...yes. Good point. Amphitrite - incoming!
Percy: Dad- Poseidon: Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works. Percy: I'm praying, I'm talking to you, right? Poseidon: Oh...yes. Good point.
Boys like it when you talk to them as if they were grown men—at least he always did when he was a kid—because they pretend that’s what they are anyhow, grown-up men, and they do it for their entire lives.
The next time you're mad at me, talk to me,' he said. 'Don't shut me out. I don't like playing games. And by the way, I had a great time, too.
I don't play with my life by talking bullshit. I might have some chances in this bitchy life, but I've got only one fuckin' chance to give... my best shot.
