I’m claustrophobic. Your love is suffocating me and making me panic like the Crash of ’29. Just give me some space, and soon I’ll be all 1930 and we can try to make things work.
When someone is talking about their job, and they turn to me and ask me what I do, I stare off into space, let my eyes glaze over, and wistfully say, “I often wonder what I’m doing.
I’m alive; I’m not gonna try eating your ass, okay? Don’t shoot!” “What… Eat my ASS?” “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.
From time to time, too, and for the space of two or three paces, an image or an echo would rise up from the recesses of time: in the little streets of the beaters of silver and gold, for instance, there was a clear, unhurried tinkling, as if a djinn ...
O Space and Time and stars at strife, How dreadful your infinity! Shrined by your termless trinity, How strange, how terrible, is life! (“The Testimony of the Suns”)
Sure, I knew the differences between a space opera and a hard-boiled detective story and a historical novel...but I never about such differences. It seemed to me, then as now, that there are good stories and bad stories, and that was the only distinc...
This visit has compacted the court's quarrels and intrigues, trapped them in the small space within the town's walls. The travelers have become as intimate with each other as cards in a pack: contiguous, but their paper eyes blind.
There's something I want to say in this space, but it's an emptiness where there's usually a hug. — Colin Morton to Mary Lee Bragg, 1972
Though the body is its genesis, a poem is the vision of a process Carved in space, vision your poor eye's single armor against winter spring summer fall
Your mind is the knife that cuts the continuum of space and time into neat slices of linear experience.
I have an idea about building almost like a studio for some of the best Tropfest filmmakers, so they can come together and support and be given space and resources they need to tell great stories year around, so it's not just about the festivals. You...
The homes I like the best are totally occupied, busy, and useful, whether it's a tiny little house or a great big one. Rarely do you find a great big house that's used in a good way. So I prefer smaller spaces that are full of books, full of things t...
Jazz is very important. It's not something I can put my finger on. When I'm writing at my favorite time, I like to have the gentle side of Coltrane or Brubeck on the CD player. It creates sort of a spiritual space in which I write best.
It's always good to leave a little space between eating and lying down in bed at the end of the day. The best thing to eat at night in general is protein, fat, and vegetables. For instance, if you're in an Italian restaurant, have chicken piccata wit...
In any other fabric of space-time, my brother would have picked up Dee’s venereal disease-infested koala punt and run it straight down the line of vulgarity, all the way to the touchdown of tastelessness.
At night in this part of the West the stars, as I had seen them in Wyoming, were as big as Roman Candles and as lonely as the Prince who's lost his ancestral home and journeys across the spaces trying to find it again, and knows he never will.
Some things are only capable of being done in space. Examples of that are looking at our Earth from that far away, and understanding the entire processes of storms and weather patterns, and oceans, and coastlines.
I'm claustrophobic. I can't go into haunted houses. They have these tight, dark, enclosed space. I freak out. That's my phobia. It gets me out of stuff. Someone asks me to do something and I tell them I can't because I'm claustrophobic.
You can steal someone's Art, But not their Heart. You can immitate them, But you can never be like them. You can hurt them, But you cannot kill their will to love again. You can leave, But your space will always be filled by someone better than you.
I love you like a semicolon; a half-pause in a torrent of thought during which life stutters into being. I want to take you in the breathless spaces between ellipses where passion builds and shudders into a trailing afterthought.
You cannot just be working in a vast, air-conditioned loft space and think you are going to make a decent painting. Francis Bacon had a special studio built, and he felt completely emasculated in there. I have to be somewhere comfortable.
