I never trust people with no appetite. It's like they're always holding something back on you.
I never trust people with no appetite. It's like they're always holding something back on you.
Unclose your mind. You are not a prisoner. You are a bird in fight, searching the skies for dreams.
I thought about the screws and their happiness. Maybe they were glad to be free of the eggbeater, to be independent screws, to luxuriate on white trays. It did feel good to see them happy.
Were the stars out when I left the house last evening? All I could remember was the couple in the Skyline listening to Duran Duran. Stars? Who remembers stars? Come to think of it, had I even looked up at the sky recently? Had the stars been wiped out of the sky three months ago, I wouldn't have known.
I wasn't particularly afraid of death itself. As Shakespeare said, die this year and you don't have to die the next.
What was lost was lost. There was no retrieving it, however you schemed, no returning to how things were, no going back.
It takes years to build up, it takes moments to destroy.
When microorganisms die, they make oil; when huge timbers fall, they make coal. But everything here was pure, unadulterated rubbish that didn't make anything. Where does a busted videodeck get you?
It's like a kid standing at the window watching the rain.
Whiskey, like a beautiful woman, demands appreciation. You gaze first, then it's time to drink.
I've always liked libraries. They're quiet and full of books and full of knowledge.
You got to know your limits. Once is enough, but you got to learn. A little caution never hurt anyone. A good woodsman has only one scar on him. No more, no less.
Listen. I may not be much, but I'm all I've got. Maybe you need a magnifying glass to find my face in my high school graduation photo. Maybe I haven't got any family or friends. Yes, yes, I know all that. But, strange as it might seem, I'm not entirely dissatisfied with life... I feel pretty much at home with what I am. I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want any unicorns behind fences.
You said that the mind is like the wind but perhaps it is we who are like the wind Knowing nothing, simply blowing through. Never aging, never dying.
A secret's a secret because you don't let people in on it.
Losing you is most difficult for me, but the nature of my love for you is what matters. If it distorts into half-truth, then perhaps it is better not to love you. I must keep my mind but loose you.
As with marathon runs and lengths of toilet paper, there had to be standards to measure up to.
Never trust a man who carries a handkerchief, I always say. One of many prejudicial rules of thumb.
But no one was asking me. I was here to do a job, and gray steel lockers or pale peach jukebox was no business of mine.
Now for a good twelve-hour sleep, I told myself. Twelve solid hours. Let birds sing, let people go to work. Somewhere out there, a volcano might blow, Israeli commandos might decimate a Palestinian village. I couldn't stop it. I was going to sleep.
Everyone may be ordinary, but they're not normal.
Open your eyes, train your ears, use your head. If a mind you have, then use it while you can.
Everything, everything seemed once-upon-a-time.
The best musicians transpose consciousness into sound; painters do the same for color and shape.
Fairness is a concept that holds only in limited situations. Yet we want the concept to extend to everything, in and out of phase. From snails to hardware stores to married life. Maybe no one finds it, or even misses it, but fairness is like love. What is given has nothing to do with what we seek.
The unwaking world was as hushed as a deep forest.
Genius or fool, you don't live in the world alone. You can hide underground or you can build a wall around yourself, but somebody's going to come along and screw up the works.
There had to be something wrong with my life. I should have been born a Yugoslavian shepherd who looked up at the Big Dipper every night.
Had I done the right thing by not telling her? Maybe not. Who on earth wanted the right thing anyway? Yet what meaning could there be if nothing was right? If nothing was fair? Fairness is a concept that holds only in limited situations. Yet we want the concept to extend to everything, in and out of phase.
Time is too conceptual. Not that it stops us from filling it in. So much so, we can't even tell whether our experiences belong to time or to the world of physical things.
Huge organizations and me don't get along. They're too inflexible, waste too much time, and have too many stupid people.
To think that each skull once had skin and flesh and was stuffed with gray matter-in varying quantities-teeming with thoughts of food and sex and dominance. All now vanished.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories