You never stop loving someone. You either never did, or you always will.
You never stop loving someone you just learn to live without them.
Look at me, Sylvia. Because I’m not going to say this again. I told you once that I’m a man who goes after what he wants, and I want you in my bed. I want to feel you naked and hot beneath me. I want to hear you cry out when you come, and I want to know that I am the man who took you there.
Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again: but already it was impossible to say which was which.
Adepts of either Good or Evil are relatively rare in human shape. Most of us are still amateurs, which is fortunate for us all, because even moderate experts of evil can cause enough harm among humanity as it is.
Does Chester get to put a corsage on his shovel?
Sometimes we have no choice.
Dave Rich, an official of the Community Security Trust, a Jewish organization that monitors anti-Semitism in the United Kingdom, wrote recently: “Those British Muslims who verbally abuse British Jews on the street are more likely to shout ‘Heil Hitler’ than ‘Allahu akbar’ when they do so. This is despite the fact that their parents and grandparents were probably chased through the very same streets by gangs of neo-Nazi skinheads shouting similar slogans.
I think about what he’s saying. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” “Of course I’m right. Now dry your eyes, take some Midol, and stop with the premenstrual pity party.
But it still feels like there’s a popularity contest here I didn’t sign up for.
Now shalt thou adore me who am the Eye and the Tooth, the Goat of the Spirit, the Lord of Creation. I am the Eye in the Triangle, the Silver Star that ye adore. I am Baphomet, that is the Eightfold Word that shall be equilibrated with the Three. There is no act or passion that shall not be an hymn in mine honour. All holy things and all symbolic things shall be my sacraments.
In the final reckoning there is only love, only that divinity. That we are capable only of being what we are remains our unforgivable sin.
One kind word can change someone’s entire day.
Said Pope John Paul II: “God in His deepest mystery is not a solitude, but a family, since He has in Himself fatherhood, sonship, and the essence of the family, which is love.
But every time the strand wolf howled across the water, as, perhaps, you were stooping down to examine a prospective concubine missed in the first winnowing, it was only by suppressing memories of the three years just passed that you kept from wondering if it was this particular girl the beast waited for.
Hence the wife often puts on fits of love and jealousy, nay, even denies herself any pleasure, to disturb and prevent those of her husband; and he again, in return, puts frequent restraints on himself, and stays at home in company which he dislikes, in order to confine his wife to what she equally detests.
I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck.
The last time I was this scared I had to sleep in Mommy’s room.” Ben chuckles. “Q, if I were you, I would get that scared Every. Single. Night.
An intense love, a veritable tornado sweeping across the plains – flattening everything in its path, tossing things up in the air, ripping them to shreds, crushing them to bits. The tornado’s intensity doesn’t abate for a second as it blasts across the ocean, laying waste to Angkor Wat, incinerating an Indian jungle, tigers and everything, transforming itself into a Persian desert sandstorm, burying an exotic fortress city under a sea of sand. In short, a love of truly monumental proportions.
Life has its moments of great clarity. They usually come retrospectively and rarely at a convenient time.