God invented Iowa, he always said, so people could leave it and never come back.
When he decided they weren’t police, he realized he’d been thinking maybe they were.
Results for “It’s funny. You can live your whole life and then suddenly know that you didn’t do it right at all.
It was funny, Grey thought. Not funny ha-ha but funny strange, the whole idea of time. He’d thought it was one thing but it was actually another.
Grief was a place, Sara understood, where a person went alone.
This is where we leave you. The sentries at the gate will tell you what to do.
Peter gazed at the destruction. It was the cities that always turned his thoughts to what the world had once been. The buildings and houses, the cars and streets: all had once teemed with people who had gone about their lives knowing nothing of the future, that one day history would stop.
When they come, they come from above.
There’s a power at work here, something beyond our understanding. You can call it what you like. It doesn’t need a name, because it knows yours, my friend.
To have a child was to receive the gift of true immortality – not time stopped, as it had stopped in Amy, but time continuing and everlasting.
Eustace remembered a day like this one: spring on the cusp of summer, the earth unclenching its fist, thick green leaves, rich with fragrance, fattening the trees. A.
SIXTY-NINE She was Amy, and she was forever. She was one of Twelve and also the other, the one above and behind, the Zero. She was the Girl from Nowhere, the One Who Walked In, who lived a thousand years; Amy of Multitudes, the Girl with the Souls Inside Her. She was Amy. She was Amy. She was Amy. She.
I should think it a wonderful thing to be missed, the way that I miss him.
A baby wasn’t an idea, as love was an idea. A baby was a fact. It was a being with a mind and a nature, and you could feel about it any way you liked, but a baby wouldn’t care. Just by existing, it demanded that you believe in a future: the future it would crawl in, walk in, live in. A baby was a piece of time; it was a promise you made that the world made back to you. A baby was the oldest deal there was, to go on living.
The guy could sell sunlamps in a cancer ward.
Doubt is human nature. It’s what we do with it that matters.
The world was real and you were in it, a brief part but still a part, and if you were lucky, and maybe even if you weren’t, the things you’d done for love would be remembered.
It is an interesting truth that the human body, liberated from its head, is in essence a bag of blood with a built-in straw. Holding.
All was a ruin, yet the world did not seem to know or care. In.
Absolution is not the same as understanding.