I hate the thought that I'm just some kind of Russian nesting doll with the big outside and inevitably, rattling around under all the layers, a crude little peg with a face is the truth of me.
It is awfully hard work doing nothing. However, I don't mind hard work where there is no definite object of any kind. -Algernon
I tried to say something cool, wound up stammering something like, “WANNA YOU WANNA WEENIE ME?” The end kind of trailed off in a shrill, choking warble.
We need to abandon our scale and adopt God's because our misguided labels keep us from the right kind of interaction with people.
Do your kids see your kindness or are you always telling them. "NO?
Tore up my heart and shut it down. Nothing to do, nowhere to be. A simple little kind of free. Nothing to do, no one but me, and that's all I need. I'm perfectly lonely.
There's just some kind of men you have to shoot before you can say hidy to 'em. Even then, they ain't worth the bullet it takes to shoot 'em.
Yes, but I am not human and to expect me to live by your rules or values is unrealistic. For my kind, I am quite altruistic.” Tyler Jones/Dhavenbahtek to Thulu and La Fi.
Through meditation, difficult thoughts and emotions may well rise up. And through practice, you can meet such emotions with kindness, listen to them, explore them and then really let them go.
Every child born in the world must be considered as deriving its existence from God. The world is this new to him as it was to the first that existed, and his natural right in it is of the same kind.
Finally, realization dawned. I belonged to Luke. I was Luke’s woman. Hell, I had probably been born to be Luke’s woman (if you believed that kind of shit).
Sweat, scalded meat, puke, blood, smoke and a dozen kinds of bad ale and wine: the bouquet of civilized nightlife
I have no doubt at all the Devil grins, As seas of ink I spatter. Ye gods, forgive my "literary" sins -- The other kind don't matter.
A soft smile curved up her lips, and my gut dropped a little. A smile…I’d never known a smile could have that kind of effect. Could feel like a kick to the chest.
Her eyes narrowed, but she wasn't yelling. I think she liked me... kind of. The way a mother would like an annoying spastic two year old who belonged to someone else.
Bereavement seemed to work on him as a kind of blanket allergy, making him edgy and irritable to all the outside world. And of course it was reciprocal; the world receded on him.
Hanks grin almost sent me into meltdown. The kind where I killed him, but first I would stick my tongue down his throat and ride him till he was blind.
He released her arm and crossed his own over his chest. "I'm trying not to jump to conclusions. Spit it out." "I'm more of a swallowing kind of a girl." Holy hell.
Secretly," he mumbled in a quieter tone, "I've always wanted to know what it would feel like to lust, to hunger for something different. But I've never been able to imagine ever experiencing that kind of desire.
Next time, can you ask him to bring cookies? I don't like to put up with that level of insane unless there's some kind of high-calorie compensation.
Are you sure you want to go out with someone with that kind of history? ...He could have a psychotic break. I read that people get those when they're twenty-eight.
