I tried to think the same thought in as many different religions as possible, so the thought itself wouldn't be limited by any particular way of reasoning, the way words restrict -- the whole eskimo-seventeen-words-for-snow idea.
It was a limitation of human consciousness: We live only in the future and past, we cannot perceive occupies no space, a hypothetical gap between future and past. Only an exceptional few could feel athletes and jazzmen and, yes, thieves...
Apparently the complete works of Shakespeare packed quite a wallop. To think, my mother said I'd never find use for an English degree. Ha! I'd like to see her knock someone silly with an apron and a cookie press.
I have never felt the need to invent a world beyond this world, for this world has always seemed large and beautiful enough for me. I have wondered why it is not large and beautiful enough for others.
It's funny; in this era of e-mail and voice mail and all those things that even I did not grow up with, a plain old paper letter takes on amazing intimacy.
Our lives are marked and shaped by our regrets. Things we all want to take back and can’t. In a perfect world, we would never hurt the ones we love or cause hurt to befall them. But the world isn’t perfect and neither are we
What's more, I believe in argument and I even love it. Argument is our most steadfast pathway toward truth, for it is the only proven arbalest against superstitious thinking, or lackadaisical axioms.
You never want to look in a mirror," Lula said. "Men love mirrors. They look at themselves doing the deed and they see Rex the Wonder Horse. Women look at themselves and think they need to renew their membership at the gym.
I don't dare touch her. Loss is a knowledge I'm sorry to have. Perhaps the only thing worse than experiencing it, is watching it replay anew in someone else--all the awful stages picking up like a chorus that has to be sung.
Hey, do you want to end this right now?" Her eyes flared. "I wouldn't have asked you out if I'd wanted to end it. Sit back, eat and enjoy. Pretend I'm dead.
Christmas Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you like a shawl. But it warmed more than your body. It warmed your heart...filled it, too, with melody that would last forever.
Do I really run like that?" (Kitty) "Yup," Martini confirmed. "Don't worry, I think it's sexy." "Thank God. I think I look like a cheetah on drugs.
But not we men. We weren't fit to be told. For so you women think, and hug your mysteries, getting your backs on us for the slight God did in not creating you in His image.
Twelve thousand miles of it, to the other side of the world. And whether they came home again or not, they would belong neither here, nor there, for they would have lived on two continents and sampled two different ways of life.
After a few minutes, Molly came partway up the short ladder to the bridge and stopped. "Do I need to ask permission to come up there or something?" "Why would you?" I asked. She considered. "It's what they do on ?
Since there was nowhere else he wanted to be and no one else he wanted touching him, Drake shot Gabriel a smug look over his shoulder as he let Victoria take him wherever she wanted.
The most temptation I'd experienced had been with Tomas, the Senate's spy who had been feeding off me without permission, and Mircea, who was probably plotting some nefarious scheme. I have no taste in men.
loneliness can fly a helicopter through a cut-out shape of a helicopter the same size as the helicopter and that's it's only skill and it isn't good enough but it's still amazing.
You’re not going to let her do this, are you?” Bones snorted. “Let her? Mate, if you think you can control a woman, you must be single—-and a thousand pounds says she beats your arse.
Are you having performance issues?” I asked in surprise. “Bite your tongue,” Vlad said, with a snort. “I was seeing if Dermot understood sign language, but from the look on his face, it seems not.
De leur meilleur côté tâchons de voir les choses: Vous vous plaignez de voir les rosiers épineux; Moi je me réjouis et rends grâces aux dieux Que les épines aient des roses.
