Every single man who is too stupid enough to realize how beautiful is God's creation through WOMEN and continuously lay his hand on them, he is not man enough to be classified with the rest of us.
Always think extra hard before crossing over to a bad side, if you were weak enough to cross over, you may not be strong enough to cross back!
In a sense, if you're not getting it wrong really a lot when you're creating imaginary futures, then you're just not doing it enough. You're not creating enough imaginary futures.
I enjoy stories about thin women - I read them frequently. I enjoy them; I root for those characters, but I always feel like there are enough of them out there and there are enough of them in the spotlight.
You will never learn enough looking for only the good things in life; you will always be a pupil.
True, [Gary Nolan] might not strike fear into the hearts of all you free-swinging power hitters out there—at least not in the same way as, say, Tom Seaver … but without question he was one of the most talented pitchers in baseball during the Big ...
Always' was a promise! How can you just break the promise?" "Sometimes people don't always understand the promises they're making when they make them," I said. Isaac shot me a look. "Right, of course. But you keep the promise anyway. That's what love...
You've done her a service to teach her that romantic love is largely made of illusion." [said Mina.] "Is it?" Alessandra asked, unable to suppress a worried sigh. Mina looked at her as if she knew exactly what Alessandra was thinking. "I said 'romant...
Awakening and owning the dreams that God has placed in our hearts isn't about getting stuff or attaining something. It's about embracing who we are and who he has created us to be. In him. He is our dream come true, and the one true love of our life....
Have I heard all the stories I need to hear?" she asked, stupidly. But he answered as if it were a good question. "No, you haven't. But you don't have time to hear any more from me. So listen for stories wherever you go. It won't always be someone te...
The sands of time blew into a storm of images... Images in sequence to tell the truth! Glorious legends of revolutionaries, bound only by a desire to be true to themselves... And to hope! Parables of colliding worlds, of forbidden love... of enemies ...
A painter,” he said, as though the word were an insult. “I’m a .” “You’re a ? a writer.” “What do you write?” “Stories. Books. A book. Fiction.” “Fiction. . That’s not writing.” “What do you write?” “I write the trut...
Sometimes we have thoughts that even we don’t understand. Thoughts that aren’t even true—that aren’t really how we feel—but they’re running through our heads anyway because they’re interesting to think about. If you could hear other peo...
In a sense, I'm mad (and withdrawn from life) while they're sane, human, normal - but in another sense, I speak from the depths of a vision of truth when I say that this continual jockeying for position is the enemy of life in itself. It may be life,...
In the end nothing matters but the work. You can’t control how it’s taken, and the act of telling a story always involves a gap. Sometimes confusion is the risk of ambiguity–I say that to students all the time. It’s true at the fireside and i...
I may distance myself from God from time to time, wandering off in the ignorance of my self-absorbed preoccupations and attitudes But God is never far off. Never distant. Never remote. He is close enough to hear the raw, unbridled "fuck" in my silent...
I look at the Augusteum,and I think that perhaps my life has not actually been so chaotic, after all. It is merely this world that is chaotic, bringing changes to us all that nobody could have anticipated. The Augusteum warns me to not to get attache...
Forests to the [early] Northern European peoples were dangerous and generous, domestic and wild, beautiful and terrible. And the forests were the terrain out of which fairy stories, one of our earliest and most vital cultural forms, evolved. The myst...
I have seen many cases like N. during the five years I've been in practice. I sometimes picture these unfortunates as men and women being pecked to death by predatory birds. The birds are invisible - at least until a psychiatrist who is good, or luck...
All night, after the exhausting games of canasta, we would look over the immense sea, full of white-flecked and green reflections, the two of us leaning side by side on the railing, each of us far away, flying in his own aircraft to the stratospheric...
At night, after the exhausting games of canasta, we would look out over the immense sea, full of white-flecked and green reflections, the two of us leaning side by side on the railing, each of us far away, flying in his own aircraft to the stratosphe...
