In the old pieces of furniture almost as in the old paintings, dwells the charm of the past, of the faded which becomes stronger in a man when he reaches an advanced age.
If he does go, the change will be doleful. Suppose he should be absent spring, summer, and autumn: how joyless sunshine and fine days will seem!
On sunny days of summer, I am indeed the butterfly; And like the ancient drummer, I rhythm straight towards the sky...
He smelled like a sultry summer storm—cool, refreshing rain, sweltering, hot wind, and charged, electric thunder—all rolled up into one extremely enticing vampire being.
I don't like relationships, though. I mean, it is nice and all, but I prefer to be the friend. I don't know why. They're kind of exhausting.
There's no right or wrong way to hurt. Everybody does it their own way. It's how we respond to pain that tells the kind of person we are.
Maybe if the right person floats into your life, you have to jump in with both feet and try to make it work before the tide turns.
He loved her, he loved her, and until he'd loved her she had never minded being alone....
Every star that lights up the sky, every bee pollinating the flowers, every pet asking for a treat exposes us to energy that echoes throughout our universe.
In a capitalist society there are always inequalities of class and wealth. People who inherit money and property will always see themselves as being superior to those who have to work for it.
You rich people are all the same. You couldn't care less about the other half of the world. They can all starve to death for all you care!
A generous donor (who had no doubt lived a life that imperiled his mortal soul) had granted [the Sisters] more than one hundred waterfront acres.
Vietnam...war...it did something to us. Or maybe not. Maybe the bad seeds were always in me, and war gave them a dark place in which to grow.
Billy squinted at me. "Why are you letting them go?" "Because they're real." "How do you know?" "The one I was holding crapped on my hand.
He knew he would always remember her, standing there with that expectant, forward-looking smile, enough to turn the future into summer.
That's the beauty of the summer holidays. It's as if life is just a big Etch-a-Sketch, and once a year you get to shake it vigorously up and down and start again.
The curve of my waist in a tight fitting summer dress can really make me new friends.
Come summer rain and winter snow, My love is there wherever you go; Over mountains high and oceans deep, My love will guide you awake or asleep.
We were enjoying one of those rare summers of utter freedom – no financial responsibility, no debts, no time owing to anybody.
There were corpses here and there and pools of blood. I remember seeing a butterfly flutter up and down that street. Summer does not abdicate.
There was nothing new in sitting on this dock, on this or that wooden bench, watching for his boat to come. In some ways, she was always waiting for him.
