One of the first lessons that I hope you grasp is that woven into meaningful literature, so tightly that it can't be separated, is a telling lesson, even in stories as short as this one." "Always?" I ask. "Always!" she confirms. "Good stories teach!
You think that's the solution to everything, don't you, Bane? Drinking and dancing and making love... but I tell you this, something is coming, and we'd be fools to ignore it." "When have I ever claimed not to be a fool?
If Liana wanted to fight over Harlow, she was going to lose. Not that I liked him that way. That was to say, I wasn't sure how I felt about Harlow, but it damned sure wasn't up to her to tell me.
In life, we all have a cross to bear and a unique story to tell. We just hope that someone will take the time to listen.
If you don't feel the same way about him, if you're just leading him on, you need to tell him that. I've seen too many nice guys get shafted because a girl can't get over some jerk.
I’m covered in fish hair! I have a dwarf shaped like a suitcase that I carry everywhere. Women tell me I love too deeply. Wrong! I love too widely.
I’d love to try to sell a blank white canvas to an art dealer. And when he asks what it is, I’d tell him, “It’s a landscape painting of Key West, from the perspective of an optimistic blind man.
I’ll buy your product and then return your product, and tell you to keep my money, so it feels more like a business transaction, rather than charity, which induces feelings of indebtedness on the end of the recipient.
A gun that shoots out rainclouds is a delayed water gun. I need to just pull the trigger and tell her I love her, but I’ll wait until her umbrella is open and her bathtub full of coffee.
There comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but he must take it because conscience tells him it is right.
Dr. Suess said: 'Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened..' I tell my dates: 'Don't cry because it happened, smile because it's over
If you were to ask me what’s under my bed, I’d tell you shoes. They’re brown, and they’re still attached to the body that’s been decomposing there since I hid it three days ago.
I’m as efficient as a fish ant, I’m as mythical as a productive government employee, and I’m the kind of lover your mother would approve of. Ask her—she’ll tell you how good I am in bed.
Can you tell by where my eyes are looking what I’m thinking? Hint: I’m staring directly at your vagina.
You're weird,' he says. Despite everything, I smile. 'You're always saying that, but in fact, you're weird,' I say. 'Yeah, I know. Remember? That's how I can tell you're weird, too.
You're weird,' he says. Despite everythin, I smile. 'You're always saying that, but in fact, you're weird,' I say. 'Yeah, I know. Remember? That's how I can tell you're weird, too.
God in his unending greatness and glory and man in his unending littleness, prepared for the worst but rarely for the best, prepared for the possible but rarely for the impossible.
Sin and grace, absence and presence, tragedy and comedy, they divide the world between them and where they meet head on, the Gospel happens.
... the preacher speaks both the word of tragedy and the word of comedy because they are both of them the truth and because Jesus speaks them both...
Now this is the point. You fancy me a mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded...
It is a tragicomic fact that our proper upbringing has become an ally of the secret police. (...) The "Tell the truth!" imperative drummed into us so automatically that we feel ashamed of lying even to a secret policeman.
