He was not bone and feather but a perfect idea of freedom and flight, limited by nothing at all
He was not bone and feather but a perfect idea of freedom and flight, limited by nothing at all
In the United States Christmas has become the rape of an idea.
What a story that would make How many men and women go through the same rivers, menaced by the same sharp cliches, the same jagged dangers that have threatened us If the idea stands up, I thought, it would be worth uncovering the typewriter How Richard-years-ago would have wanted to know What happens when we set off searching for a soulmate who doesn't exist, and find her.
An idea is never given to you without you being given the power to make it reality. You must, nevertheless, suffer for it.
The idea that we are physical beings descended from primeval cells in nutrient soups, that idea does violence to my intuition, stomps all over it with football-shoes. The idea that we are descended from a jealous God who formed us out of dust to choo
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories