But if we believe that love is this powerful force that binds us together, and if this belief brings us happiness and stability in this tumultuous world, then what’s the harm?
Everybody feels pain.
The worst part about her new chambers was that all these wardrobes and vanities and drapes meant there was no space – none at all – for a bookcase. Who on earth could feel comfortable enough to sleep in a room with no books?
Public poetry readings were known to be a rough business, especially when presenting new material. A man could lose a lot more than just his pride.
If there was something strange in your neighborhood, you could, um, write the Society a letter, and they would promptly send an agent to take care of it.
Words were good. But sometimes they were simply inadequate.
It’s funny how sometimes you don’t see the obvious things coming.
But right now, at the wedding supper, a bigger problem was emerging. Every time G thought about how to break the news to her, he gulped down a cup of ale. And he thought about it a lot. Every time he looked at his new bride. And he looked at her a lot.
If it is a gift, I do not deserve it. If it is a curse, I do not deserve it.
No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of it for anyone else’?
But here’s the thing, that futuristic society where everybody is drugged to be happy all the time no matter what happens, it’s horrible, monstrous even. It’s like the end of humanity, because we are supposed to feel things.
But she was a writer, so while she did get this moment of thinking herself somewhat brilliant, it would soon be offset by a crippling doubt that she had a gift of words at all. Such is the way with all writers. Trust us.
Never in any Jane Austen novel did the love interest pretend to be a fortune-teller,” Helen said, “Why would someone do that?
My fortune read, It’s never too late to become what one could have been.
Firstly, bears are always hungry. So when you encounter the bear, don’t act like food.
Of course I’ve been lying. I’m a politician.
Where are you?” I wheeze into the floor. “Where did you go?
The person who possesses the creative gift owns something of which she is not always the master – something that at times strangely wills and works for itself.
Anything’s possible, I suppose. It’s a wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.
Thanks for picking me to be the one who got to stand in your sunshine for a while.