Every heart desires a mate.
I've seen the truth, and it makes no sense.
I think if the church put in half the time on covetousness that it does on lust, this would be a better world for all of us.
A lovely thing about Christmas is that it's compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.
Intelligence is like four-wheel drive. It only allows you to get stuck in more remote places.
Even in a time of elephantine vanity and greed, one never has to look far to see the campfires of gentle people.
God writes a lot of comedy. . . the trouble is, he's stuck with so many bad actors who don't know how to play funny.
Eric Walrond, handsome, cosmopolitan, and beguilingly enigmatic, may have been the most promising literary talent of the Harlem Renaissance. . . . James Davis's finely written, beautifully paced Eric Walrond is a major biography of a fascinating figure.
The death is unfortunate. It is an accident. It is not police atrocity. It is a small and petty matter.
Marianne Dashwood looks at gray skies and sees blue. That's all very well, and it's not something you ever want entirely to lose. But you must lose a little of it; otherwise you're going to get wet.
Anybody in my job steers a tightrope between being popular and being principled.