‘Jane’s World’ has pushed the boundaries for mainstream comic strips: girls have kissed, punched each other, have been abducted by aliens, taken steamy showers together and turned into monkeys. Jane has been through a lot and I love her for it.
[The theory of universal gravitation] is not cast-iron. No theory is, and there is always room for improvement. Isn't that so? Science is constructed out of approximations that gradually approach the truth. . . Well, that means all theories are subje...
Finally he turned his head toward her face and brushed a kiss over her cheek. “I love you and I believe with all my heart that you love me as well. Why can’t you say it, Hero?
There is no way to peace along the way of safety. For peace must be dared. It is the great venture. It can never be safe. Peace is the opposite of security. To demand guarantees is to mistrust, and this mistrusts in turn brings forth war.
Why did so many grown-ups want to be young, she wondered, when it took so long to grow old? It was like going on a million-mile road trip then wanting to turn around without getting out of the car.
Legitimate First watched them go as they walked away. Sergeant Colon felt he was being measured up. "I've always wondered about his name," said Nobby, turning and waving. "I mean...Legitimate?" "Can't blame a mother for being proud, Nobby," said Colo...
Writing from memory like this, I often feel a pang of dread. What if I've forgotten the most important thing? What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all the the truly important memories are heaped and slowly turning into mud?
We were just kids, what did we know about love? I knew I loved her, and she knew she didn’t love me. Turns out we were both wrong.
The research on male-female attraction tells us that in reality neither males nor females thinks that physical attraction a turn-on. It's the slightly tousled hair, imperceptibly loosened tie, the little flaws that attract someone because we perceive...
The dragon turned on the children and unicorns, his mouth open. For a brief moment, they could see his eyes change from blue to a deep red, like coals in a fire. It was almost as if another, fiercer dragon looked at them through Zebedia’s eyes.
They were people whose lives were slow, who did not see themselves growing old, or falling sick, or dying, but who disappeared little by little in their own time, turning into memories, mists from other days, until they were absorbed into oblivion.
She had always assumed that her life would end inside the war, that the war itself would be her eternal present, as it was for Darrow and for her brother. The possibility of time going on, her memories growing dim, the photographs of the battles turn...
Has he been with a woman yet?” he asked remembering the girl at the barn. She shot him an angry glance.“Is that all you think about? Of course he hasn’t.He is only eleven.” “Nothing wrong with a boy starting early. I did.” “And look how...
Hey!" I turned, crossing my arms and glaring. "I was talking to him!" Tybalt eyed me with amusement, which just made me glare harder. "No, you were inciting him to stab you with a toothpick. Again, the difference is small, but I think it matters.
Things don't so much end as disappear. They don't so much begin as turn up. You think there will be a time to say goodbye, but people have often gone before you know about it. And I don't just mean the dying.
Try to remember the moment when all the stupid innocent things you thought about life and love, all the things you thought mattered, all the things you though were true. . .try to remember when they all turned out to be lies. —Kyle
I did not believe that a Cause which stood for a beautiful ideal, for anarchism, for release and freedom from convention and prejudice, should demand the denial of life and joy. I insisted that our Cause could not expect me to become a nun and that t...
We cannot turn away,” Miss Woolf told her, “we must get on with our job and we must bear witness.” What did that mean, Ursula wondered. “It means,” Miss Woolf said, “that we must remember these people when we are safely in the future.” ...
My brain is already scrambled enough.”“Cracked,” I said, not thinking. “Yeah.” Moses scowled. “Well, it’s working for you.” I turned and looked at my walls. “Cracks and all. In fact, if your brain wasn’t cracked, none of the brill...
If you don't change course - if you don't have something waiting for you, even if it's just to occupy you until you turn eighteen, you're not going to make it. You need to make a plan for next year.
Creative writing is your ability to develop your inner tension, your libido, your supply of energy and electric charge, turning the charge into an image or thought, and writing down the thought, thus contributing all the activity of your mind to the ...
