The storm dropped a house on her head.
The person who asks questions like yours always gets to choose the terms,
The moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves as well. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A stream of events issues from the decision, r...
The last light with any real warmth had been at home, long ago, in a place and a time that no longer existed, with people whose names he didn’t say even inside his own mind.
The fatal day rarely announces itself, but comes disguised as midsummer. Our private lives are like a colony of worlds expanding, contracting, breathing universal air into separate knowledges. Or like...
The alluring stars in an apparently endless sky had, after all, been a disguise for the cloud of spirits. Ghosts perhaps could lie in death as well as creatures could lie in life.
Tell me to mind my own business, tell me to go fuck myself, to piss, off, go on, say it, but don’t tell me nothing’s wrong.
Take care of yourself and beware high connections with bastards, because when the revolution comes there won’t be mercy for toadying ass-lickers.
Some realities are too onerous to be borne by nations, let alone by children.
So young, he knew nothing about aerodynamics, except how the heart could lift and lift.
So she listened hard. And she began to evolve, because stories work their magic that way. They build conviction and erode conviction in equal measure.
She watched the sun bleed water out of the icicle. Warm and cold working together to make an icicle. Warm and cold anger working together to make a fury, a fury worthy enough to use as a weapon agains...
She hobbled away into the dark, saying her prayers aloud.Old saint Nicholas, young saint MarkKeep me safe in the pesky darkSaint Olga of the hight Himalayas Send me a set of cashmere pajamas.
Quando os tempos são cruciais, quando o ar está cheio de crise, aqueles que são mais parecidos consigo mesmos são as vítimas.
Our private lives are like a colony of worlds expanding, contracting, breathing universal air into separate knowledges. Or like several packs of cards shuffled together by an expert anonymous hand, an...
No, she cried, no, no, I'm not a harem, I'm not a woman, I'm not a person, no.
Maybe the definition of home is the place where you are never forgiven, so you may always belong there, bound by guilt. And maybe the cost of belonging is worth it.
Liir held Chistery in his lap and sobbed into his scalp. Chistery said, Well, we'll wail while woe'll wheel, and he cried along with Liir.
Is this the main thing that painters of portraits care about? The person on the verge of becoming someone else?
I've told you before, I don't comprehend religion, although conviction is a concept I'm beginning to get. In any case, someone with a real religious conviction is, I propose, a religious convict, and...