(Home is) a place we carry inside ourselves, a place where we welcome the unfamiliar because we know that as time passes it will become the very bedrock of our being.
What passes for investigative journalism is finding somebody with their pants down - literally or otherwise.
The shortest path between two truths in the real domain passes through the complex domain.
Time moves slowly, but passes quickly.
Love is the air that I breathe, like oxygen. When I lack it, I feel atrophied, asphyxiated. When I have it, I feel I am growing. And so this growth is linked to others, or to a collective other. If I realize that I do not love you, my faith diminishes, and I breathe less and less of the oxygen of life. When I feel linked to you, in communion with you, there is a current of love that passes between us, and the intensity can multiply. And the more this love grows, the more the faith becomes luminous, the more I feel linked to the collective other. I am speaking of God.
All that we don't know is astonishing. Even more astonishing is what passes for knowing.
We are all refugees from our childhoods. And so we turn, among other things, to stories. To write a story, to read a story, is to be a refugee from the state of refugees. Writers and readers seek a solution to the problem that time passes, that those who have gone are gone and those who will go, which is to say every one of us, will go. For there was a moment when anything was possible. And there will be a moment when nothing is possible. But in between we can create.
What passes out of one's mouth passes into a hundred ears. It is a great misfortune not to have sense enough to speak well.
Harvard students have completed more English courses and less forward passes than any school in this generation.
There is a vast quantity of religion current in the world which is not true, genuine Christianity. It passes muster, it satisfies sleepy consciences; but it is not good money. It is not the authentic reality that called itself Christianity in the beginning.
"You two would make a cute couple," she says as she passes by with a full dough tray in her arms. I don't know why she says it. We aren't doing anything but folding boxes with the other drivers and telling dirty jokes. But we would. We would make a cute couple.
That's when you really lose people, you know. When the pain passes.
If you have to go back through your day in your head, try to go back to only the good things. Look at those, and what you did well. Otherwise, life kind of passes you by.
Plus, 40% of our debt is owned by foreign interest. I can't support a plan that passes along cost burden to our children and makes us more reliant on foreign dollars.
Jon passes from Darkness to Light.
I'm the luckiest broad on two feet, I'll tell you that. They say once a woman passes 40 she doesn't get any good parts, so I'm blessed.
Even in civilized communities, the embryo man passes through the hunter stage of development.
Blessings star forth forever; but a curse is like a cloud, it passes.
An impact is like a punch it may hurt put it passes.
Between lips and lips there are cities of great ash and moist summit, drops of when and how, vague comings and goings: between lips and lips as along a shore of sand and glass the wind passes.