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This damn ring had derailed her life. No wonder Gollum had gone insane.
Kyle clapped his hands together. “Goody! The Zoe dates back some 3000 years to when the Greek gods ruled.”“Who’s Zoe?” I interjected.Kyle huffed. “It’s not a who, it’s a what.
Matt is a tortured soul, ' Amanda insisted. 'He's Heathcliff and you're Cathy. He's Rochester and you're Jane Eyre. He's-''Darcy and I'm Elizabeth. I get it. And you're wrong.
Satire is the antidote to Pollyanna and Dr. Pangloss. It focuses our gaze sharply upon the the contrast between things as they are and as they should be.
I denounce the do-gooders, the feel-gooders, the “activist clubs, ” and anyone else who makes people feel like the problem is being taken care of. Trust me. The problem is not being taken care of.
Proceed with caution when you befriend a writer, for if you fall out of their good graces they have the delightful capability of doing any number of dastardly things to you upon the written page.
Would you like to try some cocaine?” Freud offered, “I think you will find it picks you up quite nicely.”“No thanks, ” God declined, holding his soft hands up to show his resistance.
If you do it in the bookies, it's a bet. . . . If you pay some 23-year-old in an Armani suit two hundred grand to go to the window for you, it's a derivative.
There may come a day when internet comments sections are deemed, for the good of humanity and the sanity of civilization in general, to be a form of biohazard or metaphysical catastrophe.
Well, really, how would you like to make love with someone who kept twittering about his pure mystic modality and wanted to stick flowers in your navel?
Olga was better, in the sun, where he could see every pore in her skin. Get closer. Feel her next to him. It was all he wanted in the world. It was the last thing in the world that he could do.
…he’d assumed their relationship would go on forever. It was going on now, but in another way, like the rearrangement of the stars, which were all still in the sky, just burning in unexpected places.
But this bus was a bit too full. The driver only appeared to control the glass and metal around him. In reality, he was at the nose of a travelling paroxysm.