He pushed himself up close to me, until he was right in my face and he smiled. I could feel him, down there..
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Join us. Play the game. It will bring you an untold number of rewards and you will finally have some direction and purpose in your lives. Take control of yourselves and those around you. Bend them to your will and all worldly pleasures will be yours..
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The slick concrete reflected the facades of the work weary - grey, cracked and old, but more importantly, trodden upon.
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It's amazing how close I have been, all this time, to my old life. And yet the distance that divides me from it is vast.
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True love never dies for it is lust that fades away. Love bonds for a lifetime but lust just pushes away.-Alicia Barnhart
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All I want is to sleep--to dream. Life is better in dreams.
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She let her mind drift, thinking about new lingerie designs, wishing she'd brought along her sketchpad. Inspiration could strike at the most inconvenient times--in the shower, in the car, on this road--but she was grateful it was with her again, an old companion with whom she was getting reacquainted, pleased to find they could take up where they'd left off, as if there'd been no estrangement at all.
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Among the Igbo the art of conversation is regarded very highly, and proverbs are the palm-oil with which words are eaten.
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Some ghosts are so quiet you would hardly know they were there.
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The sublime beauty was almost hidden withing the castle walls. She believed that the treasured things in life were often hard to find - a pearl in an oyster shell, a kind word in the heat of the moment.
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He nodded, looking across the room at the sea of photographers and journalists. The microphones spread around him like birds waiting to be fed.
Don't ever let anyone tell you that things can't be changed, that things can't be done. The can and they will, if we are united in what we believe.
The lines in the corners of her eyes spoke of years of wisdom, as a tree with the number of rings increasing with each passing year. She was a small frame of a woman with piercing eyes that suggested that they knew you, understood you even.
I couldn't bring myself to ask Matka why the had taken him. She pretended that he'd gone away on business. I pretended I knew nothing. My brother and sister believed the like. There were so many lies that we had to live with.. And secrets.
One word was the method by which the state collected their information. They could reel in the informants and spread them out like tentacles, ready to sting in any direction.
The others moved in like a wake of vultures, ready to devour their prey. She had seen it on television once. 'Scavengers,' Tatinek called them. They swoop in and feed off the carcasses of animals that are too weak to escape - lots of them on battlefields. This looked the same, only the victim wasn't there, just his writing, his typewriter, and bits of dark paper.
To Jana's mind everybody seemed happy to see BAbichka and resisted returning her, like a misplaced package sent to the wrong address. It was as if the recipient opened it up, knowing it should be returned, but wondering who long they could legitimately keep it before being changed with theft.
I don't know, Benes. I'm not sure I've ever really understood women for that kind of commitment.' He flipped his beer mat up int the air with his index finger and caught it in his hand.
9 November 1989. A day nobody would forget. She had heard rumours about the wall.
As the sun lowered into the city's skyline, casting an orange glow over the islands, Jana could feel people's hopes rising.
As people's hopes soared, Jana felt a tinge of fear.
Mr Martinek turned back to Jana. 'Thirty-eight per cent alcohol, sixty-two per cent fire - all the way from Karlovy Vary.
Quiero esperar en silencio la séptima ola. Si, aquà cuentan la historia indómita de la séptima ola. Las primeras seis son previsibles y equilibradas. Se condicionan unas a otras, no deparan sorpresas. Mantienen la continuidad. Pero, !cuidado con la séptima ola¡ La séptima es imprevisible. Durante mucho tiempo pasa inadvertida, participa en el monótono proceso, se adapta a sus predecesoras. Pero a veces estalla. Siempre ella, siempre la séptima. Porque es despreocupada, inocente, rebelde, barre con todo, lo cambia todo. Para ella no existe el antes, solo el ahora. Y después todo es distinto. ¿Mejor o peor? Eso solo pueden decirlo quienes estuvieron arrastrados por ella, quienes tuvieron el coraje de enfrentarla, de dejarse cautivar..
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I've written 2 books, 3 short stories, and a Non-fiction Relationship Checklist! All this while being a mother, wife, sister, daughter and a friend! I'm also a kick ass graphic artist and have designed book covers for some of Amazon's top selling authors!
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