I don't believe it mattered to Timothy McVeigh who was president or who his congressional representative was when he blew up the Murrah Building in 1995.
Shame has poor memory.
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.
Let the flesh instruct the mind.
Everybody's able to pour into each other creatively, and pop into the studio and pop out. It feels like a community. As an artistic community I think it's really cool.
Communication Was never big in my house. We sat together over dinner, but the only sound you'd hear was crunching and chewing and the little ones asking for more, please. We lived, all boxed up in invisible containers. We hardly knew the people we called sister or father. Jackie and I were the exceptions to that rule.
A man thinks that by mouthing hard words he understands hard things.