The purpose of a story is to be an axe that breaks up the ice within us.
Mouth in gear, brain stuck in neutral.
Don't know about my knives, but my gun's made of pain.
Instinct told me it was dangerous. I could handle dangerous. Dangerous and me went back a long way. We did lunch when dangerous was in town.
…I noticed you don’t have any self-defense training…” “…I can handle myself just fine. ” She stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, “In the very short time I’ve known you, you have been chased, shot, robbed, stabbed, drugged, and attacked by magic. ” “I’m still breathing, aren’t I?
For a brief, weird minute I felt like Dorothy in Oz, walking down the street with Terric the doubtful, Shame the brainless, and heartless Zay.
I think you’re possessed. ” “Old news. ” “Huh. Anyone I know?” “My dad. It’s a family issue I’m working on.
Clergy are men as well as other folks.
There must be a better way to make the things we want, a way that doesn't spoil the sky, or the rain or the land
I have always felt that books help me feel less alone in the world. They make our lives bigger - they help us to feel feelings we wouldn't otherwise feel and to understand feelings that we don't have a framework for.
Set it up in Zimbabwe, Every man gotta right to decide his own destiny, And in this judgment there is no partiality. So arm in arms, with arms, we'll fight this little struggle, 'Cause that's the only way we can overcome our little trouble.