You’re saying we can write our own destiny,” I said, feeling too jaded and stubborn in the moment to believe it. “I am saying,” he said carefully, “that this is not the end of the story. Not the way I am writing it.
It happens all too often - people regret that their language and culture are being lost but at the same time decide not to saddle their own children with the chore of preserving them.
When a woman excels at her job, both male and female coworkers will remark that she may be accomplishing a lot, but is “not well-liked by her peers.” She is probably also “too aggressive,” “not a team player,” “a bit political,” “ca...
I've attempted to flood the path with light where I could, and where I could not I've wanted at least to hold up a candle so that others coming this way might not stumble too painfully.
...there were only fifteen thousand polar bears in the world, and five billion of me. To let one of them devour my all-too-common flesh would, if only slightly, help adjust the grievous imbalance.
I can throw an orange like a baseball, but I can't eat a baseball like an orange. It's like that with love too, only with less velocity and fruiticism.
The next time you're mad at me, talk to me,' he said. 'Don't shut me out. I don't like playing games. And by the way, I had a great time, too.
I don't want to see it anymore. It's lousy. And it's a cheat. You build it all around something... set yourself on something... and then you don't want it. Isn't it too bad the great truths are all such lies?
Hmm…” Jason snapped his fingers. “I can call a friend for a ride.” Percy raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? Me too. Let's see whose friend gets here first.
Abe said something interesting. He said that because everyone's so poor these days, the '90s will be a decade with no architectural legacy or style- everyone's too poor to put up new buildings. He said that code is the architecture of the '90s.
Then she squeezed me tighter. Her leg came up and wrapped around me. Then she kissed me too hard and our teeth banged together. I felt like a boa constrictor’s dinner.
It is like the man who closes his eyes to the sun and then finds himself walking over the edge of a cliff. If the man is too foolish to use the gift of light given to him, how can the sun be blamed for his death?
Too many people never catch tomorrow as they let go of today. Capture the precious now instead of holding onto the hope of tomorrow.
Each of us, face to face with other men, is clothed with some sort of dignity, but we know only too well all the unspeakable things that go on in the heart.
I want to be in fifth grade again. Now, that is a deep dark secret, almost as big as the other one. Fifth grade was easy -- old enough to play outside without Mom, too young to go off the block. The perfect leash length.
Well, I said, needing to lighten the mood for him, "next time Kai tries to, um, bust your balls, you can give it right back to him, because he's got a girlfriend now, too.
The Art Magicke has rules. It means I have to teach you all my tricks. All the substitutions, the replications, the illusions. How to read minds and palms and leaves. How to disappear and reappear. "How to saw people in half?" "That too." "Nice.
...love, all at once and much, much too completely. It's like you suddenly turn a blinding light on something that had always been half a shadow...
There is the title of one book In Underground One Can Meet Only Rats. And I'd re-phrase, In Cosmos One Can Meet Only Mutants, besides, rats are mutants too there, in cosmos, therefore, I'd rather walk on the ground.
But she stopped herself. That wouldn't make it right. You didn't forgive because it was the only choice you thought you had. That didn't make it forgiveness, that made it desperation. She'd always been too desperate about Jake. Always.
I should name my future son after an orgasm sound. Not mine—his mother’s. It’d be silly to name him Eek, after my orgasm sound, because that’s his uncle’s name, and that’d be too confusing.
