What a stupid attitude we have in this country to personal stories.
I've always wanted to drive cross-country.
It is totally unacceptable that there are countries with no paediatric cardiac surgeries.
The women of the country have the power in their own hands, in spite of the law and the government being altogether of the male order.
Countries and places have a history, a story, and a culture.
Education is the cornerstone of our communities and our country.
Anybody can be good in the country. There are no temptations there.
Then I received support from the Government to compete for my country, and to represent Cuba in competition.
The country life near Manchester I really love.
Mexico is a safe country.
My dream is to be on my boat. Or on an island. Or in my house in the country. That's my dream.
Fairfax was incredibly important to the shaping of the country.
Europe is a collection of free countries.
I'd love to serve my country. I would love it.
I still believe in my country.
The country is in an extraordinary ferment.
As for the third Official Reason: exposing Western Hypocrisy - how much more exposed can they be? Which decent human being on earth harbors any illusions about it? These are people whose histories are spongy with the blood of others. Colonialism, apa...
Sometimes in the summer evenings they walked up the hill to watch the afterglow clinging to the tops of the western mountains and to feel the breeze drawn into the valley by the rising day-heated air. Usually they stood silently for a while and breat...
Our ailing planet needs spiritual warriors, ones capable of standing up to the Western materialism machine, so we can create sustainable societies that care for their citizens, harmonize with the cycles of nature, and receive and honor the vast heali...
Women in America read 'lifestyle' pages which are really glorifications of shopping. They teach us we must veil ourselves in make-up to be loved. And we willingly take the veil, thinking ourselves freed by it. Make-up is no more optional for us than ...
He’d had to fold his long legs into his desk. His boots had seen better days, and his jeans unraveled in a curiously irresistible way at the bottom. He didn’t look like anyone I’d ever seen before. He reminded me of an actor in an old Western�...
