Words, too, have genuine substance -- mass and weight and specific gravity.
Certain blood was being shed for uncertain reasons.
It was very sad, he thought. The things men carried inside. The things men did or felt they had to do.
They were signed Love, Martha, but Lieutenant Cross understood that Love was only a way of signing and did not mean what he sometimes pretended it meant. At
You're never more alive than when you're almost dead.
Общим был груз их памяти. Одни несли то, на что не хватало сил у других. Бывало, несли друг друга, если кто-нибудь был ранен или выбивался из сил. Переносили недомогания.
I suppose if we gain anything from this unsought experience it will be an appreciation for honesty- frankness on the part of our politicians, our friends, our loves, ourselves. No more liars in public...
The days seemed to stretch out toward infinity, blank and humid, without purpose, and at night I was kept awake by the endless drone of mosquitoes and helicopters. (Why wars must be contested under su...
То, что Джон Уэйд пошел на войну, было заложено в природе любви. Не ради того он пошел, чтобы гробить других или себя, не ради того, чтобы быть хорошим гражданином, или героем, или человеком нравствен...
He wanted to heat up the truth, to make it burn so hot that you would feel exactly what he felt.
They were afraid of dieing, but they were even more afraid to show it.
I know what it is to feel unloved, to want revenge, to make mistakes, to suffer disappointment, yet also to find the courage to go forward in life.
A place where your life exists before you live it, and where it goes afterwards.
All of us, I suppose, like to believe that in a moral emergency we will behave like the heroes of our youth, bravely and forthrightly, without thought of personal loss or discredit.
They were afraid of dying but they were even more afraid to show it.
They were afraid of dying but they were even more afraid to show it...they died so as not to die of embarrassment...they were too frightened to be cowards. (p 20-21 TTTC)
Even in the deep bush, where you could die any number of ways, the war was nakedly and aggressively boring. But it was a strange boredom. It was boredom with a twist, the kind of boredom that caused s...
Even then, at nine years old, I wanted to live inside her body. I wanted to melt into her bones - THAT kind of love.
Oh, man, you fuckin' trashed the fucker, Azar said. You scrambled his sorry self, look at that, you did, you laid him out like Shredded fuckin' WheatGo away, Kiowa said.I'm just saying the truth. Lik...
He killed me at the Scrabble board, barely concentrating, and on those occasions when speech was necessary he had a way of compressing large thoughts into small, cryptic packets of language.
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