When some Jeff tries to be other Jeffs, ain’t no Jeffrey in the house to be found smiling. Also, there are no Jeffries in this house.
So you killed him with what now?" "I tried that Dr. Phil book at first"..."And I finished it off with the toilet seat. Just so you know, you left it up again. That drives me crazy.
I tried to explain as much as I could," Poppet says. "I think I made an analogy about cake." "Well, that must have worked," Widget says. "Who doesn't like a good cake analogy?
She felt tears slip from beneath her lashes, no matter how she tried to blink them back. Her heart was ablaze. It seemed that her entire life had led to this man, this moment of unexpressed love.
Meekly swallowing and assimilating the customs of the more powerful has always been a strategy by which the less powerful have tried to fit in.
I wasn't sure of it, but I was almost certain that loneliness was a disease. An infectious, disgusting illness that was slow to creep into your system and overtake you, even though you tried to fight it off the best you could.
-there was something in her, something that was...pure horror. Everything you were supposed to watch out for. Heights, fire, shards of glass, snakes, Everything that his mom tried so hard to keep him safe from.
I tried to speak, to tell Kit I wasn't dead. No sound came out. But I managed to lift one arm a few inches and execute a tiny wave. Hello, still alive. In a fuck ton of pain, but not dead.
I'm just capable of entertaining the fantastic idea that, in certain circumstances, might actually be capable of thinking. It must be worth a go, since we've tried everything else.
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 truth is I did try to stab him. I tried to stab him with a butter knife. Why? Because it seemed deadlier than trying to stab him with a melting stick of butter.
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.
Thomas looked around and tried not to let his duty turn him bitter. These were good men, and he would not leave them behind. He had chosen this, an unselfish life.
There are far too many silent sufferers. Not because they don't yearn to reach out, but because they've tried and found no one who cares.
I didn't want to leave things the way we had, unresolved, ... and tried to tell myself he cared about me enough not to look elsewhere for what I wasn't giving him.
I tried not to laugh. I thought about how my Southern Baptist friends would respond to the suggestion that their entire denomination was making people gay.
For years, copying other people, I tried to know myself. From within, I couldn't decide what to do. Unable to see, I heard my name being called. Then I walked outside.
Have you ever tried thinking of God as a person instead of an all-powerful vending machine that never gives you the right amount of change? He has feelings too, you know.
No thanks,” I answered, “I never take rides from strangers, thugs who've tried to kill me or people with poor personal hygiene. Congratulations, by the way, for being the first person to qualify in all three categories.
He tried to get drunk, “to forget about life for awhile,” as that old Billy Joel song once said, but the scotch couldn't anesthetize his pain and provide a retreat from the reality of his latest failures.
I’ll never let you go again,Melanie.Never.Nothing will come between us...nothing." I would destroy anything,and anyone who tried to take her from me. Being away from her was no longer an option. She was mine.Only mine.
