To demonstrate is to show clearly & deliberately, and to describe is to give a detailed account in words. That thing called 'Love' is defined when demonstrated, not when described.
Experience has thought me that there is only one short step between Love and Hate, as there is between Life and Death.
A Happy Love-Life happens to the one who works hard at what he KNOWS about it. In all thy getting, get Knowledge.
The fears of children were simpler and usually more powerful. The fears of children could often be summoned up in a single face... and if bait were needed, why, what child did not love a clown?
I had a dream about you last night.. You thought you were a candy vampire, you were standing in the sun screaming 'I'm melting.
Males were expected to be ready to fuck any hole they could slip their dicks into. Boys weren’t considered men unless they were influenced by their carnal instincts to spread their seed.
These were our bedtime stories. Tales that haunted our parents and made them laugh at the same time. We never understood them until we were fully grown and they became our sole inheritance.
Men started praying to you, begging for a taste. That legend of yours spiraled out of control. You gave the people hope. They were told you were all they ever needed.
After all, what is every man? A horde of ghosts – like a Chinese nest of boxes – oaks that were acorns that were oaks. Death lies behind us, not in front – in our ancestors, back and back until...
Didn’t we all grow up understanding that bribes and payoffs - - by whatever name or rationale - - were bad. And that people were supposed to be the focal point of society, not money?
Phoebe, don't play coy. If you were willing to give a peeping Tom a show, and you thought you were doing it for my benefit, then let's cut the pretend out of this and shoot straight for cold hard honesty
I remember in treatment, Mr. Shaw told me that the alcohol and drugs never were my problem. He said the alcohol and drugs were my solution and that was my problem. And he was right.
The Indians did not like to see anything odd -- a white squirrel, for instance. . . . They thought such oddities were messages, were omens of evil. . . . And the Indians put a great deal of faith in dreams.
We may talk a good game and write even better ones, but we never outgrow those small wounded things we were when we were five and six and seven.
That was one of the troubles with the Istiqlal, with all politics: you talked about people as though they were not really people, as though they were only things, numbers, animals, perhaps, but not really people.
Some of the most amazing people in the world were not perfect; they were scarred by suffering, hardships, losses and imperfections.
Trees were not hard, irritable things, but discreetly orgasmic beings moaning at a level too deep for our brutish ears. And flowers were quick explosive orgasms, like making love in the shower.
The way I saw it, if my students were willing to pretend I was a teacher, the least I could do was return the favor and pretend that they were writers.
There was no mistaking what the feeling of fullness in his heart meant. They were mates and were bound together. Forever. Wharick's green eyes closed for a moment as he absorbed the feeling of completeness their bond provided his spirit.
Ladies who were no better than they should be, whose dresses were too tight, too bright and too all the things Magnus liked most, lounged on velvet-covered benches along the walls.
When the Earth was just a child, He searched for his mother Venus; And for his father Mars, But they were not home; They were gone elsewhere, Out there, in the great expanse; Beyond the breathing universe.
