If you notice someone talking to a person you can’t see, she may be a paranoid schizophrenic. But she may also just be psychic. The fact that you can’t see the other half of the conversation doesn’t mean it’s not truly happening. That.
Did it ever occur to you that there is no such thing as clairvoyant? That maybe psychics are just really good at detective work?” “Or maybe you’ve got that backward. Maybe the reason a good detective can read his subjects is because he’s a little bit psychic.
In this, wolf culture is a lot like Native American culture, where age is revered – and nothing like most Americans, who stick their aging parents in rest homes and visit twice a year.
I’ve always thought elephants walk as if they have music being piped into their heads that no one else can hear.
It was easy to be proud of the kid who got straight A’s and who made the winning basket-a kid the world already adored. But true character showed when you could find something to love in a child everyone else hated.
Some scientists believe that corticoids – stress hormones – can atrophy the hippocampus and cause memory disruptions.
Sometimes, when I would share a memory of a meal, I noticed the others listening. “It’s because you don’t just tell stories,” Darija explained. “You paint with words.
And that’s what I think love is,” Chris said quietly. “When your hindsight’s twenty-twenty, and you still wouldn’t change a thing.
That’s the life, she said to me, as we watched a puppy chase its own tail. That’s what I want to be next. I had laughed. You would wind up as a cat, I told her. They don’t need anyone else. I need you, she replied. Well, I said. Maybe I’ll come back as catnip.
Maybe because I do not like the idea of my grandmother and someone like Josef still coexisting in this world.
It is a fact universally acknowledged that it’s impossible to stay furious in close proximity to a newborn elephant.
Every baby is born beautiful. It’s what we project on them that makes them ugly.
That night, there were meteor showers. It seemed to me that even the sky was weeping. Two.
Stories outlive their writers all the time.
It gets a little easier to breathe again and when I close my eyes, I don’t see Jess’s face on the backs of my lids, grainy like a drawing on an Etch-A-Sketch.
When you don’t fit in, you become superhuman. You can feel everyone else’s eyes on you, stuck like Velcro. You can hear a whisper about you from a mile away. You can disappear, even when it looks like you’re still standing right there. You can scream, and nobody hears a sound. You.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: “If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way.
She looks like she’s at peace,” I hear, over and over. Or “She looks just like herself, don’t she?” Neither one of these is true. She looks like an illustration in a book, two-dimensional, when she ought to be leaping off the page. When.
What’s beautiful, grey and wears glass slippers? Cinderelephant. Why are elephants wrinkled? They don’t fit on the ironing board. How do you get down from an elephant? You don’t. You get down from a goose. Why do elephants have trunks? Because they’d look funny with a glove compartments.
I reach into the abyss and find my manners.