What are you up to now? I'm sill crazy. The rain feels good. I love to walk in it.
What do you do, go around trying everything once?' He asked 'Sometimes twice
What do you do, go around trying everything once?' he asked.'Sometimes twice,...
What is Love? perhaps we may find that love is the ability of someone to give us back to us. Maybe love is someone seeing and remembering, handing us back to ourselves just a trifle better than we had...
What is fire? It’s a mystery. Scientists give us gobbledegook about friction and molecules. But they don’t really know. Its real beauty is that it destroys responsibility and consequences. A problem g...
What is it about fire that's so lovely? No matter what age we are, what draws us to it?...The thing man wanted to invent, but never did...If you let it go on, it'd burn our lifetimes out. What is fire...
What is the greatest reward a writer can have? Isn't it that day when someone rushes up to you, his face bursting with honesty, his eyes afire with admiration and cries, That new story of yours was fi...
What is there about fire that's so lovely? Not matter what age we are, what draws us to it? It's perpetual motion; the thing man wanted to invent but never did. Or almost perpetual motion. If you let...
When I hit the atmosphere, I’ll burn like a meteor. I wonder, he said, if anyone’ll see me? The small boy on a country road looked up and screamed. Look, Mom, look! A falling star! The blazing white s...
When rivers flooded, when fire fell from the sky, what a fine place the library was, the many rooms, the books. With luck, no one found you. How could they!--when you were off to Tanganyika in '98, Ca...
When you strip all the clothes away and the doodads, you have two human beings who were either happy or unhappy together, and we have no complaints.
Whenever I am very happy or very sad or very embarrassed, I cram my mouth with sweets and litter the breezeway with discards.Когда я очень счастлив, или очень огорчен, или смущен, я всегда набиваю рот...
Where are my two precious human books so I may turn their pages, aye?
Whirl man's mind around about so fast under the pumping hands of publishers, exploiters, broadcasters that the centrifuge flings off all unnecessary, time-wasting thought!
Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man? Me?
Why live? Life was its own answer. Life was the propagation of more life and the living of as good a life as possible.
Why live? Life was its own answer.
Why love the boy in a March field with his kite braving the sky? Because our fingers burn with the hot string singeing our hands. Why love some girl viewed from a train bent to a country well? The ton...
Why love the woman who is your wife? Her nose breathes in the air of a world that I know; therefore I love that nose. Her ears hear music I might sing half the night through; therefore I love her ears...
You always dread the unfamiliar. Surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was exceptionally ‘bright,’ did most of the reciting and answering while the others sat like so many leaden id...
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