Never to have lived is best, ancient writers say. Never to have drawn the breath of life, never to have looked into the eye of day; The second best's a gay goodnight and quickly turn away.
I threatened to kung fu you. Oh my God.
All you have to do is take a man at face value. Don't go into it thinking you can change them. Men aren't fixer-uppers, not like a house or a car. You buy them as is.
Sixty-five seconds," he said. "You weren't breathing for sixty-five seconds after we found you. I lived and died during each one of them. " He let out a breath. "Never again.
In his world, people never questioned him. And it was a good place to be, his world. Apparently she hadn't gotten the memo.
Oh my God," Maddie whispered, horrified. "I rented him that boat. Does that make me a murderer?" Tara's heart clutched. "He's not dead yet. " "Hurry," Maddie called to Ford. "I can't be the one who killed Tara's ex!" I look terrible in orange!
It was not enough. It was too much. It was everything.
The so-called feminist writers were disgusted with me. I did my thing, and so I guess by feminist standards I'm a feminist. That suits me fine.
Sight is where the eye hits.
Because that's the thing about depression. When I feel it deeply, I don't want to let it go. It becomes a comfort. I want to cloak myself under its heavy weight and breathe it into my lunges. I want to nurture it, grow it, cultivate it. It's mine. I want to check out with it, drift asleep wrapped in its arms and not wake up for a long, long time.
For one, thing, the media are dominated by the irreligious. So are universities.