And he waited. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like a small forever.
Felt is not the easiest thing to animate. It's very flimsy.
I have always felt a little strange about it being so unique that I'm not a train wreck. Like, this weird fluke that I'm not - partying all the time.
I'd listen to things that felt really good in the moment and realize they were clouded by enthusiasm or caffeine. And things that I was struggling to get out ended up being really compelling. It's an emotional roller coaster; there's exhilaration and there's shame.
Haven't you felt a peculiar sort of worry about the chair in your living room that no one sits in?
The actor's life, but also the Australian's life. We're wanderers. We like to walk about - we're curious people. I have felt that since I was a teenager.
I appear at times merry and in good heart, talk, too, before others quite reasonably, and it looks as if I felt, too, God knows how well within my skin. Yet the soul maintains its deathly sleep and the heart bleeds from a thousand wounds.
I started out writing when I was young; stuff about exposing the truth about how people are not what they appear, about how they are much more dysfunctional than they seem. Pulling back the curtain - that felt smart. But as I got older, exposing how frail people can be seems less and less deep.
As I've gotten older, I've felt I have more authority on that subject. I think the conversation needs to be reframed. What I hate - a lot of conversations about choosing not to have children tend to be couched in these superficial terms, or kind of glib, "I'd rather have a Porsche" or "I forgot to have kids. " No you didn't.
I have been accused of having believed when I wrote Sex and Temperament that there are no sex differences. . . This, many readers felt, was too much. It was too pretty. I must have found what I was looking for. But this misconception comes from a lack of understanding of what anthropology means, of the open-mindedness with which one must look and listen, record in astonishment and wonder, that which one would not have been able to guess.
I am Ecuadorian but people felt so safe passing me off as a skinny, blue-eyed white girl.
I felt like Life was a great show. It was really well-written.
And never have I felt so deeply at one and the same time so detached from myself and so present in the world.
I've never spoken with an angel, though one time I felt the awesome weight and glory of God's presence in an angel in my bedroom as I kneeled in prayer. I kept my eyes closed, good Baptist that I was at the time, so I never knew if it was an angel. (I now am reasonably confident it was. )
My body cheerfully informed me that he felt really good pressed against me like that, all hard muscles and smooth contours and ominous bulges. My body liked the air of barely leashed strength and caged mayhem he was giving off. My body thought he smelled really good, like heat and coffee and electricity. My body was going to get me killed.
Every experience deeply felt in life needs to be passed along. Wheather it be through words and music, chiseled in stone, painted with a brush, or sewn with a needle, it is a way of reaching for immortality.
And I felt sorry, and I have felt bad about what happened.
I remember telling my friends I wish I had stayed in school and they didn't understand: "You've got all this money and everything you want. " But it wasn't about the money. It was about how I felt right then.
But as a young model, I never felt as beautiful as I looked.
Nobody, she felt, understood her-not her mother, not her father, not her sister or brother, none of the girls or boys at school, nadie - except her man.
