Let those parents that desire Holy Children learn to make them possessors of Heaven and Earth betimes; to remove silly objects from before them, to magnify nothing but what is great indeed, and to talk of God to them, and of His works and ways. befor...
So when modern-day religious conservatives wax nostalgic about how marriage is a sacred tradition that reaches back into history for thousands of uninterrupted years, they are absolutely correct, but in only one respect—only if they happen to be ta...
Cinderella was the first fairy tale I remember - the one I was most obsessed with because of the gowns and magic and pretty shoes. Yes, her home life was less than ideal - and considering the talking mice and birds, she probably needed serious therap...
But what was good tween us must have been nothing but bodies, she say. Cause I don't know the Albert that don't dance, can't hardly laugh, never talk bout nothing, beat you and hid your sister Nettie's letters. Who he?
Hm...yes, all is in a man's hands and he lets it all slip from cowardice, that's an axiom. It would be interesting to know what it is men are most afraid of. Taking a new step, uttering a new word is what they fear most...But I am talking too much.
He wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to sit and listen to her talk about books until his ears fell off. But all these were things he could not want, because they were things he could not have, and wanting what you could not have led to misery and m...
Cecy, what are you doing here?" She took a step forward, then paused on the threshold, glancing down at her bare feet. “I could ask of you the same.” “I like to talk to the horses at night. They make good company. And you should not be out and ...
I'm sure the holy refrigerator is packed solid with cartons of Blue Bell ice cream - times a million. All those amazing flavor combinations minus the calories and fat grams, of course. After all, we are talking about heaven here, amen?
Hi,' he says. 'Hi,' she says back, and then to her great surprise, she begins to cry. 'You know,' Nick says as he hands her a tissue from the bedside table,' for all this talk about how you don't cry, you sure are sprouting a lot of water.
They were even talking about buying a bodyguard, can you believe it? I mean, what on earth would I look like, turning up with a bodyguard? Actually, I'd look pretty cool and mysterious, wouldn't I? That might have been quite a good idea.
Time talks behind our back. To our face it's friendly and logical, never hesitating to give more of itself. But when we're not looking, it steals our lives and says bad things about us to the parts of us it's stolen
He'd always liked women who'd talk back to him just a little bit. "Girls with balls" were good. Women with an actual mind of their own who could prove him wrong in something were, of course, castrating bitches who should be drowned in bottomless well...
...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...
