And so we smile on,Feeding the truths we shareWith a union of our souls,Cathedral slaves of our passionWhich builds beauty amongst chaos.
My selfie my life!
We are one at the root - we just part at the branch
Mankind without Earth is Humanity without a Home
Life is limited by death to make us hurry, though we can't change the past, atleast we change for good and to never repeat the same mistakes again.
Nothing humbles a beautiful woman better than not being wanted by a man whose girlfriend or wife is ugly (or not as beautiful as she is).
Wonder is the beginning of wisdom.
You are what you are, and what you are is not me!
I never realized just how many things I really hated until you walked out the door and out of my life.
I think, that if the world were a bit more like ComicCon, it would be a better place.
Cynical realism is the intelligent man's best excuse for doing nothing in an intolerable situation.
She wanted to know what American writers I liked. Hawthorne, Henry James, Emily Dickinson… No, living. Ah, well, hmm, let's see: how difficult, the rival factor being what it is, for a contemporary au...
When I consider that the nobler animal have been exterminated here - the cougar, the panther, lynx, wolverine, wolf, bear, moose, dear, the beaver, the turkey and so forth and so forth, I cannot but f...
The thought of you being removed from the rotation is not funny to me.
The lawyer was a short, ugly, little man. He stood about three feet taller than his desk’s two foot eight inch frame and he had dark eyes. Lois couldn’t tell if they were black or an extremely dark br...
Teachers dread nothing so much as unusual characteristics in precocious boys during the initial stages of their adolescence. A certain streak of genius makes an ominous impression on them, for there e...
Tea? Daniel asked, signaling to the innkeeper.Please. Or anything that is hot. She pulled off her gloves, pausing to frown at a little hole that was growing at the tip of her right forefinger. That wo...
Rhys gave no warning as he gripped my arm, snarling softly, and tore off my glove. His touch was like a brand, and I flinched, yielding a step, but he held firm until he'd gotten both gloves off. I h...
People want us, or want us dead, because of what we are, not who we are. It's hard.
Like a flower pressed flat and dried, we try to hold it still and say, this is exactly how it was the day I first saw it. But like the flower, the past cannot be trapped that way. It loses its fragran...