Sport is the best means of communication between people from different religions and countries.
He was having an illicit affair. . . with his own mate.
Love can conquer everything but reality. Which will win every stinking time.
As always, Blay was the anchor who kept him from being swept away.
V rolled the Aquafina bottle between his palms. "How long have you wanted to ask me the question? About the gay thing. " "For a while. " "Afraid of what I'd say?" "Nope, because it doesn't matter to me one way or the other. I'm tight with you whether you like males or females or both. " V looked into his best friend's eyes and realized… yeah, Butch wasn't going to judge him. They were cool no matter what. With a curse, V rubbed the center of his chest and blinked. He never cried but he felt as if he could at this moment.
When she didn't continue, he shrugged. "Just let me bring you coffee. I want to wait on you. Makes me happy
And bottom line, without John by her side, everything seemed to be just a big, resounding meh.
He was about as useful in a crisis as a sheep.
What changed these very ordinary men (who were such cowards that they did not dare stand too near the cross in case they got involved) into heroes who would stop at nothing? A swindle? Hallucination? Spooky nonsense in a darkened room? Or Somebody quietly doing what He said He'd do - walk right through death? What do you think?
You know everyone loves to hate a happy pair of lovebirds.
There are lots and lots of challenges that I wished - at the time - that I had done. There are lots of occasions where there were exciting things to be done but for some reason or another it was physically impossible for us to do them. I still wouldn't mind if I was able to go down into this most impressive valley in the Antarctic, but of course those things are beyond me now.