That´s an alien. I´m an alien. We´re aliens. Aliens everywhere, acutally, which is why we have to leave. I´m sure someone called the police by now.
Nostalgia has a way of blocking the reality of the past.
It is usually unbearably painful to read a book by an author who knows way less than you do, unless the book is a novel.
One can talk good and shower down roses, but it's the receiver that has to walk through the thorns, and all its false expectations.
If you love somebody, you love them. My parents had a 25-year age gap between them and my mum was the breadwinner, my dad the house husband. I'm a strong believer that a good relationship can work, wh...
His room was a sickly dual-tone of crimson and charcoal, like an Untitled Rothko, the colours bleeding into each other horribly and then rather serenely. The overall effect was overwhelmingly unapolog...
Tweet others the way you want to want to be tweeted.
There is no competition of sounds between a nightingale and a violin.
Only love interests me, and I am only in contact with things that revolve around love.
These examples and many others demonstrate an alarming trend whereby the privacy and dignity of our citizens is being whittled away by sometimes imperceptible steps. Taken individually, each step may...
He shall rule, whom they look not for that dwell upon the earth, and the fowls shall take their flight away together: