And they were quiet but their blood and nerves and butterflies were not—they were rampantly alive, rushing and thrumming in a wild and perfect melody, matched note for note.
Just one look and then I knew that all I longed for long ago was you
I will be so glad for you to hear not the sounds of gunfire but the sounds of church bells, and of people working in peace.
Rules help us live our lives when we lose the will to do it on our own
He watched the scene and thought of life; and (as always happened when he thought of life) he became sad. A gentle melancholy took possession of him. He felt how useless it was to struggle against fortune, this being the burden of wisdom which the ag...
I told you it was easy,” HARV said. “True, but you say that about everything.” “That's because everything is easy for me.” “Everything but humility.” “No, that's easy, too. I just choose not to practice it.
Carol, I thought you didn't liked playing with the minds of normal people.” “Yes, but the press don't count as normal.” “She’s got you there,” HARV added.
Forget it,” I said. “Opie could be bloodthirsty, rabid, radioactive, and selling life insurance and he’d still be preferable to listening to the two of you.
W turned on his heel and began walking toward the door at the far wall. And by walking I mean, of course, not moving at all, at least not to the naked eye, because his strides could only be measured in micrometers. His creaky legs made barely the tin...
I'm never getting a tattoo. My secrets are etched safely on the inside and I intend to keep them there.
You can't change the past, you know? You can't change who you were, but you can change who you're going to be.
Far from such din, when blessed silence returns, I can listen to the butterflies that flutter inside my head. To hear them, one must be calm and pay close attention, for their wingbeats are barely audible. Loud breathing is enough to drown them out. ...
He may actually have been existing in the past and approximating a conceivable future, which brought even the assumption of his immediate perceptions as being in the present into doubt. And thus, he couldn’t—beyond a hint of skepticism—say that...
You are a cynical man, Mr. Pleasant." "We live in cynical times, Miss Cain.
The person with a safe center doesn't fear change. We can choose change without fear before a challenge only when we are strongly centered.
Wie man weiß, gibt es ja nichts auf der ganzen Welt, das langweiliger ist, als Sport zu machen, und wenn etwas noch langweiliger ist, dann natürlich Sportlern bei der Ausübung ihrer langweiligen Sportarten zuzusehen.
A night of full moon is favourable to tales of apparitions.
We thread our way through a moving forest of ice-cream cones and crimson thighs.
Music lets you write your own checks. Don't ever forget that.
Here's how I'll tell you what I think—if you see white smoke then you know I picked a new pope. And if I'm drinking a Snapple then you know I don't give a shit.
You are not a handgun. More like a pellet gun. Maybe even a slingshot.
