I'm working on my own life story. I don't mean I'm putting it together; no, I'm taking it apart. If you'd wanted the narrative line you should have asked earlier, when I still knew everything and was more than willing to tell. That was before I disco...
Tell me about your Italian journey I am not ashamed I wept in that country beauty touched me I was a child once more in the womb of that country I wept I am not ashamed I have tried to return to paradise
The guilt of not telling Frankie about Matt and me is overwhelming, but it's a pale second to the violation I feel that she read my most private, raw thoughts and destroyed them. She broke into my carefully guarded heart, stole the only remaining con...
When someone tells me they don’t read, I like to walk up to them and stroke their hair, pet it really, because you know who also doesn’t read? My cat. In essence, these people are pitiful, and no better than pets.
Again, a conversation with the doctor. We always come back to the same point: "The church may not mix in politics." he says. And I tell him that when you are a Christian and profess that God is almighty, there is no single area of life from which you...
I just got a promotion today! I’m now the branch manager of a local tree. If my father could see me now, the second thing he’d tell me is how proud he is. The first thing he’d say would probably be, “Thank God I’m not blind anymore!
I’m sorry,” he tells me. I sit down on the bed. He returns to the view of the street below. I follow his gaze and I see the infected walking slowly back and forth. “It’s okay,” I say. “Okay,” he says. He nods. “Good.” He puts the gu...
Do I look like someone you know? Well you don’t know me, so why don’t you go bother my clone? And if you do see my clone, tell him I should have made an omelet out of him when I had the chance.
I know what it's like to have secrets. Ones that are way traumatic. Ones that are so awful you can't tell anybody, even though you're dying to. So I'm not going to talk about this with anyone. It's the right thing to do. Karma and all.
The fatted calf, the best Scotch, the hoedown could all have been his too, any time he asked for them except that he never thought to ask for them because he was too busy trying cheerlessly and religiously to earn them.
I think you will agree that life's plans are not always tied up in neat little packages. Occasionally we find ourselves at unexpected crossroads with more than one opportunity from which to choose. Time itself is often the best indicator of which dec...
Science and observation can only ever tell us the way that things are. They have no influence on the way that things should be.
If I do find out the Secret,I won't be able to tell it to you-you know that right?And that doesn't mean I don't trust you.It's just because I can't.Sometimes even best friends have to keep secrets from each other." -Cass
Why was I still traveling? Was it purely because it was better than turning around and going home, where I would have to make grown-up choices about my future? Or was I waiting to happen across a place that would tell me to stay?
You're insane!" she shouted. "Pretty cool, huh?" "No!"Tally yelled. "Why didn't you tell me it was broken?" Shay shrugged. "More fun that way?" "More fun?" Her heart beating fast,her vision strangely clear. She was full of anger and relief and...joy....
When it’s quiet in my head like this, that’s when the voice doesn’t need to tell me how pathetic I am. I know it in the deepest part of me. When it’s quiet like this, that’s when I truly hate myself.
The dog next-door had settled down, and the neighbourhood seemed stunned by this event occurring in our backyard. It was like it could sense it. It could sense some form of tragedy and helplessness being played out, and to tell you the truth, it all ...
They called our arrangement a 'Death Pact' - but, really, that's not a phrase that tells you anything important. It's just the kind of phrase that sells newspapers. For us, it was never about death. It was about life. Knowing that there was a way out...
We sit for a few more moments, although there's really nothing left to say. This is new to me, too, an entire conversation that takes place in silence, because the heart has its own language. I will remember what Eric says even though he doesn't say ...
While he’d been tentatively considering a possible romantic relationship with her, she’d fallen in love with him. He could barely speak. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Mason snorted. “Yeah, that’s right. Come on. You’re almost thirty, you�...
[N]o such thing as objective writing, . . . every inscription, every traveler's tale, every news account, every piece of technical writing, tells more about the author and his time than it does about the ostensible subject.
