The body is the outermost layer of the mind.
Human hunger birthed the Civlize, but human hunger killed it too.
There’s a link between bigotry and bad spelling.
I added ‘writers’ to my list of people not to trust. They make everything up.
This world, he thinks, contains just one masterpiece, and that is itself.
The human world is made of stories, not people. The people the stories use to tell themselves are not to be blamed.
This isn’t lust. Lust wants, does the obvious Love is greedier. Love wants round-the-clock care; protection; rings, vows, joint accounts; scented candles on birthdays; life insurance. Babies. Love’s a dictator.
It’s true that stammerers can become more adept at sentence construction.
Who was blowing on the nape of my neck.
Sometimes the fluffy bunny of incredulity zooms around the bend so rapidly that the greyhound of language is left, agog, in the starting cage.
Probably in a parallel universe not far from here, I’m working for Nintendo.
Folks with most to complain about seldom complain most.
Dreams are shores where the ocean of spirit meets the land of matter. Dreams are beaches where the yet-to-be, the once-were, the will-never-be may walk awhile with the still are.
The world never stops unmaking what the world never stops making. But who says the world has to make sense?
I remain thankful to God for all his mercies.
History admits no rules; only outcomes.
Your turn has come to sift through the dreck of humanity for rare specks of originality.
We are both busy people, so let’s cut the small talk.
Gosh. The subjunctive is always the first to go.
Memories are their own descendents masquerading as the ancestors of the present.