An adult western is where the hero still kisses his horse at the end, only now he worries about it.
I'm a modern mountebank - I believe in Physiognomy - after all, we are in control of our face - it's the map of where we've been.
I'm not afraid of the opinions of others - but of being needed and coming up short.
The abyss you stare into and that stares back at you is your reflection in the mirror - we all have it - that shadow self - that dark heart.
I see myself at crossroads in my life, mapless, lacking bits of knowledge - then, the Moon breaks through, lights up the path before me.
Dark furrow lines grid the snow, punctuated by orange abacus beads of pumpkins - now the crows own the field.
The religion of the heart is as intimate as a wish breathed to the night sky.
As another has well said, to handicap a student by teaching him that his black face is a curse and that his struggle to change his condition is hopeless is the worst sort of lynching.
One and one is two, and two and two is four, and five will get you ten if you know how to work it.
If whatever men know comes through their brain without the Holy Spirit regenerating their spirit, then their knowledge will help them not one whit. If their belief rests in man's wisdom and not in God's power, they are merely excited in their soul.
Though there is one part of writing that is solid and you do it no harm by talking about it, the other is fragile, and if you talk about it, the structure cracks and you have nothing.