Truth maybe stranger than fiction, but fiction is truer.
And I imagine. . . with great pleasure. . . all the horrible stirrings of the nonmanifested to bring forth the scream which creates the universe. Maybe one day I'll see you trembling, and you'll go into convulsion and grow larger and smaller until your mouth opens and the world will come from your mouth, escaping through the window like a river, and it will flood the city. And then we'll begin to live.
Am I going to change the world, or am I going to change me? Or maybe change the world a little bit, just by changing me?
Probably, the secret is to be less complicated. We of course love to make complications - look at the way we live. We have this tremendous amount of information, and probably it is really not so necessary. Maybe if you just drink water, you are kind to people and walk a little bit it's all done already. But we cannot resist this sophistication.
Now the world believes in Kurds, as they have become partners in that region. The West doesn't believe in the Iraqi government - not in Maliki before or Abadi today. It doesn't believe in Syria in any way, nor in Iran. So the Kurds could maybe work together with the Western world to bring stability to the region. It's a nice change, coming as it is after hundreds of years of the struggle of the Kurds.
He knew I'd seen everything in that alley, that I'd stood there and done nothing. He knew that I'd betrayed him and yet he was rescuing me once again, maybe for the last time.
If you buy the website, maybe you'll do something with it. But so far I haven't; we'll see.
If I was asked what my only joy is, maybe it's eating.
He looks sad. Or maybe that's just how he looks when he isn't doing something else with his face.
I was always determined to make it as a footballer, but if things hadn't worked out, I'd have maybe followed my dad into the building industry.
It never occurs to me that I'd be intimidating to anybody. Maybe I should consider that.
Look who's calling the cauldron black. " "Kettle. It’s a kettle. Get your metaphors right. " "That wasn’t a metaphor. It was a, you know. . . " He stared off into space, blinking. "One of those things that’s symbolic of another thing. But isn’t the same thing. Just like it. " "You mean a metaphor?" "No! It’s like a story. . . like. . . a proverb! That’s it. " "I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a proverb. Maybe it was an analogy. " "I don’t think so.
Maybe your country is only a place you make up in your own mind. Something you dream about and sing about. Maybe it's not a place on the map at all, but just a story full of people you meet and places you visit, full of books and films you've been to. I'm not afraid of being homesick and having no language to live in. I don't have to be like anyone else. I'm walking on the wall and nobody can stop me.
I'm a big game show fan. When you're a poor person, you watch game shows. I don't think people realize that. Maybe everybody watches game shows, but when you're poor, you live vicariously through those people.
For me, my role is about unleashing what people already have inside them that is maybe suppressed in most work environments.
I wasn’t ready to think about the other yet: that it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for Macon, but that maybe he wasn’t right for me. There was a difference. Even for someone who things didn’t come easy for, someone like me.
Teachers try to make us feel lower than themselves, maybe because this is because they feel lower than outside people. One teacher told me to get out of the room and never come back, which I did.
Maybe I'm a serial regional writer. First here, then there, across the map.
Maybe Simon Cowell for his effect on music. I call him Slimy Cowpat.
I've been known to make out with girls from time to time. Couple drinks involved, you know. It's fun. And who knows? Maybe it'll go further someday. I don't know.