My son thinks I'm hilarious, but he's only 1.
opened the door a crack wide enough for the entire world to pass through.
For they had lived together long enough to know that love was always love, anytime and anyplace, but it was more solid the closer it came to death.
There is always something left to love.
Time was not passing. . . it was turning in a circle.
When he went through the kitchen he kissed Rebeca on the forehead. "Get those bad thoughts out of your head," he told her. "You're going to be happy.
But when a woman decides to sleep with a man, there is no wall she will not scale, no fortress she will not destroy, no moral consideration she will not ignore at its very root: there is no God worth worrying about.
I've never slept with anyone who could help me at all. No one. I wish I had. If anything, everyone I've had sex with has been a real step in the wrong direction.
Against stupidity the very gods themselves contend in vain.
It's very kind of 'Wuthering Heights' where my parents' house is, moors and deserted. It's very wild and mystic.
But this too is true: stories can save us.