I traveled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity.
I traveled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity. I watched
I loved you already then.
I imagine I’ll crouch there at the door, fall onto him, and cry hard into the stench of his fur. I’ll wait for him to wake up, but he won’t. I’ll bury him. I’ll carry him outside, feeling his warmth t...
I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. - Liesel Meminger
I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that’s where they begin. Their great skill is their capacity to escalate.
I carried them in my fingers, like suitcases. Or I’d throw them over my shoulder. It was only the children I carried in my arms.
I can promise you that the world is a factory. The sun stirs it, the humans rule it. And I remain. I carry them away.- spoken by death
I buy the stale popcorn, or at least try (because Bernie, in his words, won't have it) and we go through and sit down, near where I watched from yesterday.He's given us a ticket each.'Coool Hand Luke:...
I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race - that rarely do I ever simply estimate it.
Hänen ensimmäinen hyökkäyssuunnitelmansa oli sellainen, että hän istutti kotimaahansa sanoja mahdollisimman monille alueille.Hän istutti yötä päivää ja hoiti niitä.Han katseli niiden kasvua, kunnes lo...
How many people get this chance?And of those few, how many actually take it?
He’d told them what Saturday night meant. The mattress, the plastic sheet. He told them of Matador in the fifth. He said he loved her from the very first time she’d talked to him, and it was his fault...
Her hair was a close enough brand of German blond, but she had dangerous eyes. Dark brown.
He, as much as anyone, knows who and why and what we are:A family of ramshackle tragedy.A comic book kapow of boys and blood and beasts.
He's most likely robbing the bank as a paycheck on the world for winning the ugliness prize at his local fete three years running.
He was tall in the bed and I could see the silver through his eyelids. His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do—the best ones. The ones who rise up and say, I know who you are and I...
He was a great horse, she went on, and the perfect story—we wouldn’t love him so much if he’d lived.
Había un tren y un niño tosiendo. Había nieve y una niña destrozada por el dolor.
God, there were so many of them. So many sets of dying eyes and scuffing feet.