It’s like we get so set in our ways, so entrenched in those grooves, we stop seeing our loved ones for who they are.
It’s like we get so set in our ways, so entrenched in those grooves, we stop seeing our loved ones for who they are. But tonight, right now, I see you again, like the first time we met, when the sound...
It’s also the manifestation of everyone’s existential question: Am I who I was supposed to be? Is this the life I was meant to be living?
It’ll be your loss, Ethan. Day’ll come, when he’s grown and it’s too late, that you’d give a kingdom to go back and spend a single hour with your son as a boy. To hold him. Read a book to him. Throw a...
I whisper, Now what? And he says, You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.
I want her in a way I can’t explain.That I don’t ever want to be able to explain, because the mystery of it is a perfect thing.
I thought I appreciated every moment, but sitting her the in the cold, I know I took it all for granted. And how could I not? Until everything topples, we have no idea what we actually have, how preca...
He watched the stars go dark as the sun breathed fire into the sky, and when it finally cleared the ridge on the far side of the river, he bathed in the rays of gorgeous warmth streaming into his alco...
Fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, liv...
Sitting position, tucking his head between his knees. Sensed the instability of the world long before he opened his eyes, like its axis had been cut loose to teeter. His first deep breath felt like so...
You’d like for me to show you? What do you think? All right, Ethan. All right. But I have to warn you...I’m going to ask for something in return.
You want to raffle me off? Like a fucking fruit basket?
We’re all made of the same thing—the blown-out pieces of matter formed in the fires of dead stars.
We all live day to day completely oblivious to the face that we're a part of a much larger and stranger reality than we can possibly imagine.
To work here with a good heart I’d been forced to smother the snob in me.
They say all art—whether books, music, or visual—is a reaction to other art.
Still he’d only missed his Bronco by a few hundred feet.
Pope just smiled. Don’t even think about leaving town.
Money can’t buy you happiness, darling. Believe me, I’ve tried. But it affords your own brand of misery.
Mick the Mick tried to concentrate on reading the page, but his gaze kept flicking up to the trees. The prehistoric landscape lapsed into deadly silence. Then, like some giant monster coming out of th...