My girlfriend has two aliases. Clones aside, it’s the only time I’ve ever felt like I was cheating on one person with the same person.
There are two apples, one is green and the other is red. Which apple would the wise man choose? The answer is: I’ll take the one you didn’t choose. You see, you are the fool here, because I poisoned the first apple!
They forget that we, too, have earned the right to live! So I say if we are going to die, my friend, let us die trying, not sitting.
Now, because we have spent so many years convincing the younger people that we are helpless, they believe that we are no longer of use to this world.
If there are two witnesses to a murder, you and the guy you killed, I’d say your secret is safe. I won’t say nothing to nobody.
I carry a door with me wherever I go, because one, it’s symbolic for the opportunities that’ll open up for me, and two, I want to be the best door-to-door salesman who sells doors, so I carry a sample with me everywhere.
We’re going to go in the back room as two singles, copulate back there, and come out a couple. Somebody go tell my clone where I am so he doesn’t go file a missing person’s report on himself.
My writing doesn’t improve if you think it’s great, and it doesn’t lessen if you think it sucks. Likewise, you not showing me love doesn’t mean mine for you has to be invisible. The two are as unrelated as me and my foster parents.
So why is a third of our world battling obesity and spending huge sums to burn off excess calories, while the other two-thirds yearn to get more of them?
This was the beginning. The end is easily foreseen; for, given a young man of Dick's temperament, longing for companionship, and another young man of Charlie's make−up, with a legitimate business to bring the two together, and only a friendship of ...
That Crawford Tilinghast should ever have studied science and philosophy was a mistake. These things should be left to the frigid and impersonal investigator for they offer two equally tragic alternatives to the man of feeling and action; despair, if...
...his eyes lit up and glowed red against the dark bulk of it. A moment they remained so ... then they soared up, phosphorescently opalescent, with a predominance of red, like two sinful dead planets escaping from Hell.
She knew exactly what he meant. Despite their differences, of their differences, they were a perfect mismatched set. Two sides of the same tarnished penny. An out-of-step Fred and Ginger. Vaughn was just as fucked up as she was - he was just so much ...
Misery is a scar on the soul, that if it begins in childhood, it lasts the whole lifetime. I understand that no two scars are alike, but I also ask myself; even if these scars are not alike, aren’t these things engraved on our souls signed by which...
I love you and I will until the end of time.And just as she said the words, two bright stars drifted past them overhead and disappeared into the night sky together…
It was something of a mystery how a couple of teenage girls had managed to escape detection for two years, especially when one of them was a privileged Moroi princess and the other a delinquent dhampir with a disciplinary file so long that it broke s...
A human wasn't an acceptable boyfriend for a witch; nor would a human wish to date a witch. The two would never in a million light years be interested in each other. Then, again, unwritten rules were made to be broken.
Communication is really a two-way process with listenining being as important as speaking. Enhancing one's listening skills is therefore as important as enhancing one's speaking skills.
With the harmonious balance between materialist nature and spiritual attitude, it is possible to be affluent yet with the soul of a saint. Such a state is a synthesis of matter and soul; the Rich Monk is a way to be rich in two ways.
All I knew was that I couldn't have him right now. It was impossible. Could I have him in a year? Two years? Five years? Ten years? I didn't know. All I knew was that although the universe was pushing us together, it was also pushing us apart.
Basically, Sherri's idea had to do with bringing Fat's mind down from the cosmic and the abstract to the particular. She had hatched out the practical notion that nothing is more real than a large World War Two Soviet tank.
