Belongs. I can’t afford so much as a footman to scour Saint Petersburg. You must afford it. It is said, ‘One
Your life story is really about how the hands of history caught you up, played with you, and you with them. History plays for keeps; individuals play for time. When
You two are just up the stairs. Next to my room, so I can keep an eye on you should you get up to anything.What's your name so I can call it out during wild sex?
You might forget an event but you can never go back to living as you did before it's influence was applied upon you
You could say that Elphaba brought us together,' said Boq softly. 'I'm closer to her and so I'm closer to you.'Galinda seemed to give up. She leaned her head back on the velvet cushions of the swing a...
Yes, freedom is magnificent. But freedom is hard work.
YOU HAVE YOUR OWN LIFE TO LIVE, IRIS, AND AT ITS END, THE ONLY OPINION THAT AMOUNTS TO ANYTHING IS THAT WHICH GOD BESTOWS.
Wrong takes an awful long time to be proven, in my experience.
When goodness removes itself, the space it occupies corrodes and becomes evil, and maybe splits apart and multiplies.
When Sister Saint Aelphaba neither confirmed nor denied this plan, Oatsie began to understand why the payment to take the green maunt away had been more than generous.
What more does one ask of life, really, but to stagger from moment to moment with a reason to wake and wait for the next reason to wake?
Well, the family always was bright, and brightness, as you know, decays brilliantly.
We stand at a crossroads. Idolatry looms. Traditional values in jeopardy. Truth under siege and virtue abandoned.
We are an experiment in situation ethics set by the unnamed god.
To grow a melody? You can't grow a melody on purpose, she said, and slyly added, you have to plant an accidental.
Those who are roped into bed at night often fall into delusions of flight.
They moved together, blue diamonds on a green field.
There was no apology for the way the world worked. Only accommodation to it, while at the same time committing—somehow—not to give up.
The years peeled slowly off, one by one, or perhaps dozens at a time.
The wickedness of men is that their power breeds stupidity and blindness,