I forgive him and like water draining from the sand after a wave, the power he held over me disappears. A slow smile rises on my face.
But one never finds a cathedral, a wave in a storm, a dancer's leap in the air quite as high as one has been expecting;
These days she tended to think of herself as a Heisenbergian Christian: she believed in the broad outlines of Christianity, but she was unable to pinpoint the specifics of her creed. She was OK with the wave; it was the particles that tended to escap...
His shoulder-length hair was a rich, dark-brown color with a slight wave to it and it flowed behind him as he ran into the center of the gypsies. He was tall, muscular, and so beautifully handsome, yet primal. He looked magnificent.
I'm talking to myself in two different personas now. I'm reaching for a full-throttle meltdown and why not? Why stop halfway? Why not just go for it, jump on and ride the wave?
The ocean waves were choppy. Good thing I know karate and was able to fight back.
The weed-whacker dad was helping his kid whack weeds. Dad was blitzed to the eyeballs on beer, and the kid was waving the weed whacker around like he was Luke Skywalker. It wasn’t going to end well.
The weed-whacker dad was helping his kid whack weeds. Dad was blitzed to the eyebrows on beer, and the kid was waving the week whacker around like he was Luke Skywalker. It wasn't going to end well.
A single radio post still heard him. The only link between him and the world was a wave of music, a minor modulation. Not a lament, no cry, yet purest of sounds that ever spoke despair.
The waves were choppy, like Chuck Norris' karate hands. The ocean would have been still, if I weren't making love in it.
She felt... how life, from being made up of little separate incidents which one lived one by one, became curled and whole like a wave which bore one up with it and threw one down with it, there, with a dash on the beach.
On one side of his brain, logic was standing on a chair, waving its arms to get his attention. On the other side, lust and yearning rubbed their hands together in unholy anticipation.
[S]he was in a pretty crazy place, screaming and waving the bucket-knife around, spattered with blood from head to toe. Lee was lying on the floor, quietly pumping out his life through his throat.
He was responsible for my peaks and valleys, the pulsating waves and earth-shattering releases. It didn’t matter if I was bound or not, whether we fucked or made love, he was in control. The reality was he was always in control.
Her pulse raced, pounding in her ears above the howling wind. A wave of dizziness crashed over her with the rapid flood of adrenaline. She gasped in a breath. “Don’t let go.
All bodies are radiant but not all radiance is visible: stars radiate visible light; planets and donkeys and couches radiate infrared waves. (If your couch is emitting visible light GET UP IMMEDIATELY!)
Nereus spun and expanded, turning into a killer whale, but I grabbed his dorsal fin as he burst out of the water. A whole bunch of tourists went, "Whoa!" I managed to wave at the crowd.
Then sail, my fine lady, on the billowing wave - The water below is as dark as the grave, And maybe you'll sink in your little blue boat - It's hope, and hope only, that keeps us afloat
However," he continued, "this canvas is preferable to the paintings of that varlet Rubens, with his mountains of Flemish flesh sprinkled with vermilion, his waves of red hair and his medley of colors.
Malibu: With sounds of waves crashing, and the ocean at the doorstep, you feel like you are hours away from civilization. And with L.A. traffic, YOU ARE.
The world yearns. This is its sure gravity: the attraction of bodies. Earth for molten star. Moon for earth. A hand for the orb of a breast. This is its movement too: the motion of desire, of a longing toward.
