Literature might be called the art of story, and story might in turn be called a universal language, for every culture we know of has a tradition of storytelling. No doubt stories have touched your life, too, from bedtime stories you may have heard a...
Above me I feel your love my Goddess Full of the promise that through you my Goddess All things ripen and come to fruition my Goddess As the diaphanous boundary between worlds my Goddess Is illuminated by the white light of your sign my Goddess I ask...
What do you think?" she asked, snapping him out of his reverie. "How am I doing?"... He squatted down beside her. "You did a good job." Their knees touched but instead of pulling away, Sam held her position, pressing ever so slightly against him. "Re...
Learning to should be learned before learning to Life should be touched, not strangled. You've got to relax, let it happen at times, and at others move forward with it. It's like boats. You keep your motor on so you can steer with the current. And wh...
There were five others before they got to him. He smiled a little when his turn came. His voice was low, smoky, and dead sexy. “My name is Augustus Waters,” he said. “I’m seventeen. I had a little touch of osteosarcoma a year and a half ago, ...
Andy had been a good friend, and a good human being. Someone who was loyal, and upbeat, and funny. You think if you’re not in touch with someone, everything is probably okay with them. Life just ticks along. They do the same things as you. They gro...
I want you to meet my dad." “I would be honored, Alessandra.” Sabin smiled down at her, adoring her as much with his eyes as with his touch. “But tarnation, woman, you’re taking me to my end. You look like the cat that ate the canary. If you ...
... toxic derivatives were underpinned by toxic economics, which, in turn, were no more than motivated delusions in search of theoretical justification; fundamentalist tracts that acknowledged facts only when they could be accommodated to the demands...
The young woman's perfect breast didn't yield beneath the gentle pressure of two latexed fingers. "What're you doing?" Professor Robert 'Lithium Bob' Beck frowned at me. "I don't know. It's what I did when I first saw her…" "Why?" asked Doc Donald,...
Whether you believe in God or are an atheist, you cannot deny that the empirical facts of science have nothing to do with whether or not freedom and good are real or worth destroying ourselves for. Meaning must come from the individual in touch with ...
When you really love someone, you think about him all the time. No matter where you are or what you're doing, he never completely leaves your thoughts. When you're apart, you want to be with him. When you're together, you're conscious of every move h...
I try to find the books that I lost or forgot more than 30 years ago on another continent, with the hope and dedication and bitterness of those who search for their first lost books, books that if found I wouldn't read anyway, because I've already re...
I wish I could say he was a French professor, a French chef, or even a bilingual tutor, but I can’t. He worked in a factory and spent his summer evenings at a reenactment village as a blacksmith or something equally masculine. But it didn’t reall...
I think that’s what we are all meant to do, all we can do, with the gifts we have been given, be they experiences or talents. Those gifts are waiting to be used to touch others’ lives, as we patiently listen for and obediently follow the directio...
In my time,” he said, “they believed in witches. Are you a witch, Honor, that you make me say these things to you?” Causing him to rip open wounds that had stayed safely scabbed over for so long that, most of the time, he managed to forget they...
Once," Balinda begins softly, "when I was in the emergency room with my mother they brought in a murderer who had been shot and was dying, right there in front of us. I watched as the nurse touched his face and reassured him and I could not believe t...
I just wanted to thank you' he says, his voice low. 'A group of scientists told you that my genes were damaged, that there was something wrong with me - they showed you the test results that proved it. And even I started to believe it.' He touches my...
Breathless I look up at him and find him gazing at me with a wonder that my deep-seated insecurity finds hard to believe. Then he does this thing. His fingers start moving on my face, tracing outlines. They trail along my eyebrows, the ridge of my no...
Woodward said that he had told no one the name of Deep Throat. Mrs. Graham paused. 'Tell me,' she said. Woodward froze. He said he would give her the name if she wanted. He was praying she wouldn't press it. Mrs. Graham laughed, touched his arm and s...
He reached forward to cup my cheek, the touch surprising me. "Please understand that no matter what I am or what has happened in the past, I am yours. I am devoted to you above all else, including my own life." I exhaled after holding my breath for w...
The vision I see in the mirror is me, who I am, supposedly, but that vision does not express the way my mind works or the way I feel inside. A realization creeps over me, the words tumbling into my head quietly like falling leaves. I. Am. Crazy. This...
