Above us, outlined against the brilliant sky, dragons crowded every available perching space on the Rim. And the sun made a gold of every one of them.
Two empty chairs are not a good use of space. Fill them up with love.
And another way of explaining it is to say that shit happens, and there's no space too small, too dark and airless and fucking hopeless, for people to crawl into.
Judging is preventing us from understanding a new truth. Free yourself from the rules of old judgments and create the space for new understanding.
I revel in flowers without let, An atom at random in space; My soul dwells in regions ethereal, And the world is my dreaming-place.
I wanted to bathe myself in that burn, to let the radiation take my skin and flesh and bones until I was nothing but charged particles dancing in space.
I knew something was there, precisely because I hadn’t found anything and the space seemed empty. That’s also how I’m searching for love.
And she felt as though she had been there, on that bench, for an eternity. For an infinity of passion can be contained in one minute, like a crowd in a small space.
I am suspended in the moment. Flickering images faded with age, frozen thoughts hovering precariously in dead space, a whirlwind of memories that slice through my soul.
Sometimes maybe you need an experience. The experience can be a person or it can be a drug. The experience opes a door that was there all the time but you never saw it. Or maybe it blasts you into outer space.
After all, people seemed quite easy about having their rights and liberties taken away by those they looked up to, but somehow a space on the perch was a slap in the face, and treated as such.
What was our life like? I almost don't remember now. Though I remember , the space of time it occupied. And I remember it fondly.
All my life, I've been trying to fill an emptiness inside. But that emptiness...I've built myself around it. Filling it in would be like filling in the empty space within a cathedral.
Everything in nature invites us constantly to be what we are. We are often like rivers: careless and forceful, timid and dangerous, lucid and muddied, eddying, gleaming, still.
The toughness I was learning was not a martyred doggedness, a dumb heroism, but the art of accommodation. I thought: to be tough is to be fragile; to be tender is to be truly fierce.
When we sense something, it is due to the movement of atoms in space. When I see the moon it is because "moon atoms" penetrate my eye.
These were the facts. Facts were important. They separated fiction from reality, the tawdry world of Mike Longshott from the concrete spaces of Joe's world.
We need never shout across the spaces to an absent God. He is nearer than our own soul, closer than our most secret thoughts
Then Gerry heard through his helmet radio the two most dreaded words any crew never wanted to hear during a space mission; "Oh sh*t
... relationships required such vigilance, such attention. You had to hold them together by force of will, and other people took up so much space, demanded so much time. It was exhausting.
I move onward, through the colors and cheers and music, floating into my future, and it is a clear, open space that stretches wider that the sky and higher than the Andes.
