If you are in the mountains alone for some time, many days at minimum, & it helps if you are fasting. The forest grows tired of its weariness towards you; it resumes its inner life and allows you to s...
Our inner selves can’t help but come along
His best talent had yet to be determined, unless you counted unrealized potential.
She fit her head under his chin, and he could feel her weight settle into him. He held her tight and words spilled out of him without prior composition. And this time he made no effort to clamp them o...
His spells portrayed the spirit as a frail thing, contstantly under attack and in need of stength, always threatening to die inside you. Inman found this notion dismal indeed, since he had been taught...
Our worst pain is confined within our own skin.
The flame of urgent coupling burned hottest against the woman, no matter how romantic and high and heartsick the anguish of the man might be pitched in retrospect.
She always carried a book, though, in case she needed to read a few pages to avoid unwanted conversation.
Needing and getting don’t seem likely to match up any time soon... What needs doing is mine to do.
Luce's new stranger children were small and beautiful and violent.
At the first gesture of morning, flies began stirring.
[No] matter what a waste one has made of one's life, it is ever possible to find some path to redemption, however partial.
I know I don't need him, but I think I want him.
I sometimes imagine meeting my seventeen-year-old self. She's still here inside me somewhere. Maybe one morning in the mirror, there she'll be. I look at her with affection and understanding and hope....
Going bearded seemed one less thing to have to fail at.
They call this war a cloud over the land. But they made the weather and then they stand in the rain and say 'Shit, it's raining!
A man's spirit could be torn apart and cease and yet his body keep on living...His spirit blasted away so that he had become lonesome and estranged from all around him...It seemed a poor swap to find...
We are not strong enough to stand up against endless grief, And yet pain is the constant drone of life. So if we are to have any happiness at all, it is only in the passing instant.
When time is remote enough nobody amounts to much.
That's just pain she said. It goes eventually. And when it's gone, there's no lasting memory. Not the worst of it anyway. It fades. Our minds aren't made to hold on to the particulars of pain the way...