There *is* no mortal sin. There are only *souls*, lost in a maze that someone *else* has made for them.
You move on. You move back. On because you're always getting older, back because there's always a set of habits and routines to catch you and suck you back in when your guard is down.
Even at its worst, there are tiny holes in the midnight canopy of my bad luck.
You know, I'm like Avis rent-a-car: Because I'm insignificant, I try harder.
It's not a holiday until you overdo it!
Nothing matters more than the stories we tell ourselves to explain the world.
The light of a hunter's moon bleached the unresisting pastels from the faces of the towers, so that they looked like titanic ribs of bone, and shadows accrued like crusted blood under the walkways.
I will withhold death from you as long as you obey my one command. Bow down to no one. Worship no one. Not even me. Do you understand?
It's a measure of how far I've come that I didn't bother to say, This is impossible.
It was a hot, moist armpit of a night...
Could it hurt to take a look? The answer was yes, of course. It's always yes. But I went anyway.
But Tom was not thinking about magic or struggle or the rest of his journey.
Beliefs are collars to which leashes can be attached
But you can't save people from the world.There's nowhere else to take them
My mum’s getting married, said Cheryl. Again. At the Brompton Oratory. Fourth time around the track, this is. They don’t say ‘Till death us do part’ for my mum; they say ‘Who’s holding ticket number t...
Because all the waters of the ocean won't fill a bucket with a hole in it. And that's their fall, and that's their fellowship. Desire. The hole in the bucket: the gulf of yearning into which the soul...
You never apologised to me for getting my legs broken either.I said sorry in my own way, Gary.
And there's a darker side to Peckham, too, once you get in deep: a side I like a lot more, because I identify with the past and prefer even worm-eaten wood to wipe-clean plastic.
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