..history is best explained dramatically, because for God's sake nobody's going to tell me that massive Homeric war so to speak, between the Achaens and the Iliums was caused merely by some economic factor concerning trade...
I'd been at the mercy of a prick on a power trip, the kind of buttoned-up bantam rooster who gets off on control and then, when you resist him, tells you that you've got issues with control.
Just tell me why; why the fucking why?" To which the universe would hollowly respond, "My ways cannot be known, oh man." Which is to say, "My ways do not make sense, nor do the ways of those who dwell in me.
The Artificial’s speech pattern was an idiosyncratic mix of awkward and colloquial. It was unexpectedly endearing. “I just have good instincts. Mostly I love being in space.” But you are not ‘in’ space. You are in your starship and your sta...
Who has a right to tell me I have no gift, no talent, no passion ...' he murmured. 'Why do people say those things to you when youre young? Doesn't seem fair, does it?' 'No, darling, it's not fair,'she said. 'But the mystery is why you listen.
I promise to tell you everything you want, but first I want something from you in return. What do you want? Olivia asked. I want a kiss, William said. You and I, we're making a deal of sorts...a bargain that we will keep each other's secrets...
[Mouse is] with us. The dog is a handicap-assist animal." The kid lifted his eyebrows. "My mouth is partially paralyzed," I said. "It makes it hard for me to read. He's here to help me with the big words. Tell me if I'm supposed to push or pull on do...
There was no point in telling my father. He'd never let me quit after only one day. He couldn't help me and he'd make some terrible blunder if he tried. Parents are too innocent for the Boschian landscapes of middle school.
MYTH: Beautiful Writing Trumps All REALITY: Storytelling Trumps Beautiful Writing, Every Time
I wasn't mean; I wasn't evil. I was nice. And let me tell you, a hesitant man is the last thing in the world a woman needs. She needs a lover and a warrior, not a Really Nice Guy.
[When] he's here, he's always reading. He says books stop time. I myself think he's crazy...Don't tell anyone, but when he reads something that he likes he gets real happy, turns on the music, and dances by himself, or with a broom sometimes.
Once in a while a new government initiates a program to put power to better use, but its success or failure never really proves anything. In science, experiments are designed, checked, altered, repeated-- but not in politics... We have no real cumula...
But even if they could go home it would be difficult for me to tell you what the moral of the story is. In some stories, it's easy. The moral of 'The Three Bears', for instance, is "Never break into someone else's house". The moral of 'Snow White' is...
I had a dream about you. The ice melted so quickly in our relationship that I didn’t even have a chance to tell you I loved you. So I just sat there, alone, slurping up what was left of us in a straw.
I had a dream about you. We were debating the nature of love, and you said it was invisible, and I said it was the color of gold. You accused me of being a banker, and I accosted you for it. Nobody calls me a banker and lives to tell about it.
I had a dream about you. You wanted to be like Amelia Earhart, and I took you to mean you were trying to find yourself. Then I understood what you were telling me, and I sold you an invisible airplane.
Love is like 9.75 plus .25. That’s 10, for all of you people trying to add fractions on your fingers. I can only count using eight, because I’m too busy using my middle fingers to tell the politicians how much I love them.
Well, the old Autumn didn't know anything about reality. The old Autumn was quite happy living in a childish make-believe world where bad things didn't happen and where you could make up whatever silly story you liked and tell yourself it was true.
People don't know. We don't know ourselves so we tell ourselves what we really know is other people. We could say the depth of pain we feel for the lovers who've left us is because we knew them so well.
Never give a woman flowers to say I love you . Tell her how much you love her and you will wake up looking at the flowers beside her bed.
Fear is really the sin of unbelief....I am talking about fear coming from believing what we see over what God tells us is true.
