I fell in love, not deep, but I fell several times and then fell out.
The secret was a hole in the middle of me that every happy thing fell into.
I wish I had a nickel for every time I fell and blamed someone else. I'd give a ton of money to the ones I've hurt.
She fell asleep, lying there, her hand clasping his. Her last awareness, before she surrendered the responsibility of consciousness, was the sense of an enormous void, the void of a city and of a continent, where she would never be able to find the man whom she had no right to seek.
How it felt to have the world moving beneath me, a hand gripping mine, knowing if I fell, at least I wouldn't do it alone.
What she really loved was to hang over the edge and watch the bow of the ship slice through the waves. She loved it especially when the waves were high and the ship rose and fell, or when it was snowing and the flakes stung her face.
Last time I failed is when I fell in love with distractions.
Long ago an uncalled rain fell and a called-upon God stayed equally distant.
It was raining cats and dogs, and I fell in a poodle.
Pete and Repeat were sitting on a wall. Pete fell off. Who was left? Repeat.
I was a bad student. I liked archaeology actually, I was interested in maybe becoming an archaeologist but I was such a bad student and had such bad grades that I wasn't going to get into any really good college so I fell back on acting.
God, if ever I have come close to wanting to commit suicide, it is now, with the groggy sleepless blood dragging through my veins, and the air thick and gray with rain. . . I fell into bed again this morning, begging for sleep, withdrawing into the dark, warm, fetid escape from action, from responsibility. No good.
I fell in love with music at 13-years-old. I wanted to be a singer at first and a drummer. Then I fell in love with rap music.
I am a fairly optimistic person. . . If everything that I'm involved in now suddenly fell away, I know I would cope because I've coped before.
After I fell in love with you, I fell in love with my life.
The first person you fell in love with stole your heart. The first person you made love with stole your soul. And if these were one and the same, you were doomed.
Shinji slowly fell forward onto his face. Debris bounced up on impact. It took less than thirty seconds for the rest of his body to die. The memento of his beloved uncle--the earring worn by the woman he loved--was now stained with the blood running down Shinji's left ear, reflecting the glow from the red flames of the farm building. And so the boy known as the Third Man, Shinji Mimura, was dead.
I didn't want to play a rancher. I didn't want to have a cowboy hat on; I wanted to get away from that in the things I do. But I read the script and fell in love with it. As hard as I tried to say no, I couldn't.
No one ever fell in love gracefully.
Do you realize that if you fall into a black hole, you will see the entire future of the Universe unfold in front of you in a matter of moments and you will emerge into another space-time created by the singularity of the black hole you just fell into?