Seeing pictures of other places around the world makes me feel more important. Reminds me, even though life is short, there's so much to do.
I'm friends with a guy who is friends with a former Playboy model. So I guess you could say I'm 1 degree away from 212 degrees.
I've never written a quote I feel would be suitable for my gravestone. Wouldn't it be ironic if it were this one? Oh, and could you pull a few weeds while you're here?
I believe that sexual offenders and predators should be released…as long as it is mandatory they get to move into the house next door to the judge that released them.
I would love to be on a Real Housewives from somewhere reality show. Then I could show all those women how the rest of our society gets to do it.
For the source of the short story is usually lyrical. And all writers speak from, and speak to, emotions eternally the same in all of us: love, pity, terror do not show favorites or leave any of us out.
During my completely soul-shredding midlife crisis at the age of twenty-eight, I felt sure I had peaked too soon.
If you ask me, my ideal would be the society based on liberty, equality and fraternity. An ideal society should be mobile and full of channels of conveying a change taking place in one part to other parts.
If you have no money, men won't care for you, women won't love you; won't, that is, care for you or love you the last little bit that matters.
One of these grand defects, as I humbly conceive, is this, that children are habituated to learning without understanding.
Language is like a road, it cannot be perceived all at once because it unfolds in time, whether heard or read. This narrative or temporal element has made writing and walking resemble each other.
If my shadow were made of ink, I’d kill it and use it to write a dark novel. Possibly a story about fractional banking.
Potentially, anyone writing on the Web can reach a global audience. In practice, hardly anyone ever does.
I think I've lost my faith and I can't stop writing because I don't know how much longer I can hold on.
O, that's a brave man! He writes brave verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely,
O, that's a brave man! He writes brave versrs, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely,
Live it already, write about it from the point of view of already having it, and be so happy and grateful at its impending arrival.
As for mother Eve - I wasn't there and can't deny the story, but I will say this. If she brought evil into the world, we men have had the lion's share of keeping it going ever since.
And metaphors like cats behind your smile, Each one wound up to purr, each one a pride, Each one a fine gold beast you've hid inside (...)
Who are your friends? Do they believe in you? Or do they stunt your growth with ridicule and disbelief? If the latter, you haven't friends. Go find some.
I have never listened to anyone who criticized my taste in space travel, sideshows or gorillas. When this occurs, I pack up my dinosaurs and leave the room.
