...some people become hypercritical when stressed. Then again, he hadn't been stressed last week. She giggled, remembering how he'd instructed her on the proper way to fold hand towels. Talk about nitpicky. Perhaps this would be a good time to call i...
You live by yourself for a stretch of time and you get to staring at different objects. Sometimes you talk to yourself. You take meals in crowded joints. You develop an intimate relationship with your used Subaru. You slowly but surely become a has-b...
Did you talk to him about it?" "Oh, sure. Nothing happened, yadda yadda. The usual. But my maydar went off like crazy." "Maydar?" "As in, he may be thinking about super hot sex with her. Like radar, only not as sure.
Oh my! Did you see him?' Exie stops abruptly and turns to watch a man who smiles at her. ' Ooh yeah, he is fine.' 'You're not going to stop to talk to him?' 'Why ruin what we have by getting to know him?' She said with a wink.
[Grace talking to Billy.] "It's like people who want to feel only happy but not sad," she said. "It never works. You either feel things or you don't. You don't get to pick and choose. At least, I don't think so.
Mineral cactai, quicksilver lizards in the adobe walls, the bird that punctures space, thirst, tedium, clouds of dust, impalpable epiphanies of wind. The pines taught me to talk to myself. In that garden I learnedto send myself off. Later there were ...
She wanted more, more slang, more figures of speech, the bee's knees, the cats pajamas, horse of a different color, dog-tired, she wanted to talk like she was born here, like she never came from anywhere else
LAST YEAR, Honesty and I still talked, Laughed, Planned weekend activities together. Last year, I used to have friends, Speak, Live. Last year, Honesty lived, Loved, Laughed. But now— Now I live with the knowledge that Some things Kill others
... all this talking, this rather liquid confessing, was something I didn't think I could ever bring myself to do. It seemed foolhardy to me, like an uncooked egg deciding to to come out of its shell: there would be a risk of spreading out too far, t...
Reeve shakes his head and exhales loudly. “That’s not what I’m saying and you know it!” He looks away. “Can you just . . . can you go get dressed and come with me and we’ll talk about it later? My mom’s expecting you.
Newborn babies can't do much on their own- They can't eat or walk or talk on the phone- But every parent is sure their creation is without a doubt a tremendous sensation.
you won’t ever get ahead if you keep feeling sorry for yourself. You must stop all the negative talk and start thinking positive. You have a lot of potential but your life won’t change until you change how you think”.
I can see why some people become “beach bunnies”: you don’t have to think about things or even talk when you’re on the beach. You just sit here and feel good about being alive.
Keep away from people who always try to stop you from sharing your opinions with the entire world. Don't listen to people who mock you because you talked about who you want to be! Exposed yourself!
She's my best friend, and I know she means well, but as she talks I'm mentally calculating all the ways I could silence her. I'm bigger than her... I wonder if I could use my straw for some sort of MacGyver inspired weapon.
Grandma sees these things when she talks about them and gestures with her hands like she's painting brush strokes in the air. The way Grandma paints her dreams for me, there's a low sky.
We were talking about the prince,' Sansa said, her voice soft as a kiss. Arya knew which prince she meant: Joffrey, of course. The tall, handsome one. Sansa got to sit with him at the feast. Arya had to sit with the little fat one. Naturally.
Ask questions then talk over answers, shout loudly you love everyone, try and hug people, confide in them that you are a sheep, offer them the last grass in your pockets. Then watch with a smile as they pretend you aren't there, and whisper you must ...
People talk about the joy of running--of the endorphins and reaching a Zen-like clarity of mind. This had never happened to me. Mostly, all I thought about when I ran was how much further I had to go before I could stop.
I am talking about the responsibility of the poet, who is irresponsible by definition, an anarchist enamored of a solar order and never of the new order or whatever slogan makes five or six hundred million men march in step in a parody of order.
Two minutes worth of signal analysis told me all I needed to know. This station "talks" to the dark matter universe about what goes on inside. How did you cobble together a jammer so quickly? I had one on me. -Commander Andreyasn & Ennesby
