Jesus Christ does not teach us a spirituality 'of closed eyes,' but one of 'alertness,' one which entails an absolute duty to take notice of the needs of others and of situations involving those whom the Gospel tells us are our neighbors. . . . The gaze of Jesus, what 'his eyes' teach us, leads to human closeness, solidarity, giving time, sharing our gifts and even our material goods.
Kafka could never have written as he did had he lived in a house. His writing is that of someone whose whole life was spent in apartments, with lifts, stairwells, muffled voices behind closed doors, and sounds through walls. Put him in a nice detached villa and he'd never have written a word.
My legs are falling asleep,” I blurted. It wasn’t a total lie. I was experiencing tingling sensations all through my body, legs included. “I could solve that. ” Patch’s hands closed on my hips.
Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open.
I walked by a dry cleaner at 3 am, and there was a sign: "Sorry, we're closed" You don't have to be sorry, it's 3 am, and you're a dry cleaner! It would be ridiculous for me to expect you to be open! I'm not gonna walk in at 10 am and say "I walked by here at 3 and you were closed - somebody owes me an apology!"
Sometimes I'm really communicating with the audience and I'm hyper-engaged. Other times my eyes are closed and I just let it be what it is.
Yes,” I told him. “I think the guy playing the Pirate King was awesome. ” He stopped where he was. “What?” I asked, frowning at the big smile on his face. “I didn’t say I liked the Pirate King,” he told me. “Oh. ” I closed my eyes—and there he was. A warm, edgy presence right on the edge of my perception. When I opened my eyes, he was standing right in front of me. “Cool,” I told him. “You’re back. ” He kissed me leisurely. When he was finished, I was more than ready to head home. Fast. “You make me laugh,” he told me seriously.
I'll do my dreaming with my eyes wide open, and I'll do my looking back with my eyes closed.