For hate is a form of passionate attachment, and to be despised seems better than to be unknown.
Folks like poor Misty Marie, they're limited, borderline dummies, but nothing enough to get a handicapped parking space. Or get any kind of Special Olympic Games. They just pay the bulk of taxes but g...
Flattery is addictive. Convince others they are special. Assure them they have talent. Make yourself the source of people's self worth. Doing so binds them to you and it preempts them from developing...
Find what you're afraid of most and go live there.
Finalmente, te quedas atrapado en tu precioso nido y los objetos que poseías ahora te poseen a ti.
Fertility says, Can you relax and just let things happen?I ask, does she mean, like disasters, like pain, like misery? Can I just let all that happen?And Joy, she says, and Serenity, and Happiness, an...
Fat, the mechanic says, liposuctioned fat sucked out of the richest thighs in America. The richest, fattest thighs in the world. Our goal is the big red bags of liposuctioned fat we’ll haul back to Pa...
Everyone else I could call is dead.
Every last minute of my life has been preordained, and I’m sick and tired of it.
Everything, including your set of hand-blown green glass dishes with the tiny bubbles and imperfections, little bits of sand, proof they were crafted by the honest, simple, hard-working indigenous abo...
Everything is funnier in retrospect, funnier and prettier and cooler. You can laugh at anything from far enough away.
Every unkind remark or crude gesture by others is a blessing, an opportunity to exercise our own capacity to forgive.
Every stupid thing in the world, decaffeinated coffee, alcohol free beer, makes perfect sense, not because you're any smarter, but because the smart part of your brain's on vacation.
Every place is the same place in the dark.
Every family is a regular little cult.
Every direction I could see to go was just a different nightmare.
Driving east, I'm not sure what we're running from. Evie or the police of Mr. Baxter or the Rhea sisters. Or nobody. Or the future. Fate. Growing up, getting old. Picking up the pieces. As if by runni...
Do you believe in an afterlife? Do your personal beliefs include a life after death?—no matter how they phrase their snotty test, do the following. Simply look them in the eye, snort derisively, and r...
Death is a long process, Archer says. Your body is just the first part of you that croaks. Meaning: Beyond that, your dreams have to die. Then your expectations. And your anger about investing a lifet...
Daytime television, you can tell who’s watching by the three kinds of commercials. Either it’s clinics for drying out drunks. Or it’s law firms who want to settle injury suits. Or it’s schools offerin...