Most yarnin's got a bit o' true, some yarnin's got some true, an' a few yarnin's got a lot o' true.
So we surrender to stupidity, do we? Freedom of speech is sacrificed at the altar of manufactured rage.
There no such thing as something! Why? Because everything's already turning into something else!
Siddhartha is a dead man and a living ideal. The man taught about overcoming pain, and influencing one’s future reincarnations. But I pray to the ideal.
Only one-tenth of what you write will make it into your manuscript, but when you knock on that tenth – I rap my knuckles on the table – you’ll hear oaken solidity, not sawdust and glue.
Faith shall save your Soul from Death. Without Faith, Death is a drowning, the end of ends, and what sane man wouldn′t fear that? But with Faith, Death is nothing worse than the end of the voyage we c...
Letting it go feels so sodding liberating.
Love may be blind, but cohabitation comes with all the latest X-ray gizmos.
Men invented money Women invented mutual aid
We looked at each other for the last time; nothing is as eloquent as nothing.
In an individual, selfishness uglifies the soul; for the human species, selfishness is extinction.
Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, and though a cloud's shape nor hue nor size don't stay the same, it's still a cloud and so is a soul.
I Din't finish speakin' my cure 'cos Roses schnockoed my face so hard the ground dived forward an' I crashed my jaxy.
I could tell you a hundred things, thinks Jacob, and nothing at all.
In the smoky firelight the two old men nodded off like a pair of ancient kings passing the aeons in their tumuli. Made a musical notation of their snores. Elgar is to be played by a bass tuba, Ayrs a...
I think about pinball, and how being a kid’s like being shot up the firing lane and there’s no veering left or right; or you’re just sort of propelled. But once you clear the top, like when you’re six...
Strip back the beliefs pasted on by governesses, schools, and states, you find indelible truths at one's core. Rome'll decline and fall again, Cortés'll lay Tenochtitlán to waste again, and later, Ewi...
Poor England. Too much history for its acreage. Years grow inwards here, like my toenails.
I...asked why purebloods despised me so. He replied, 'What if the difference between social strata stem not from genomics or inherent xcellence or even dollars, but merely differences in knowledge? Wo...
What if trying to avoid the future is what triggers it all?
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