A lie, as you probably know, has a taste all its own. Blocky and bitter and never quite right, like when you pop a piece of fancy chocolate into your mouth expecting toffee filling and you get lemon zest instead.
A lie, as you probably know, has a taste all its own. Blocky and bitter and never quite right, like when you pop a piece of fancy chocolate into your mouth expecting toffee filling and you get lemon zest instead.
Her hair is longer now, and fine lines bracket her mouth, parentheses around a lifetime of words I was not around to hear.
I look for places like me: big, hollow, forgotten by most everyone.
It is a remarkable question- Do all the wonderful things happen when we are not aware of them?
Maybe if you spend your life pretending you're on a movie set, you don't ever have to admit that the walls are made out of paper and the food is plastic and the words in your mouth aren't really yours.
There are just as many stories to be told in the dark spots s there are in the bright ones.
You can't pay a landlord in dogma.
A real friend isn't capable of feeling sorry for you.
Here's my question: What age are you when you're in Heaven?
I realize then that we never have children, we receive them. And sometimes it's not for quite as long as we would have expected or hoped. But it is still far better than never having had those children at all
It is so easy to presume that while your own world has ground to an absolute halt, so has everyone else's.
My chest feels full of glitter and helium, the way it used to when I was little and riding my father's shoulders at twilight, when I knew that if I held up my hands and spread my fingers like a net, I could catch the coming stars.
There are some things we do because we convince ourselves it would be better for everyone involved. We tell ourselves that it's the right thing to do, the altruistic thing to do. It's far easier than telling ourselves the truth.
You know how every now and then, you have a moment where your whole life stretches out ahead of you like a forked road, and even as you choose one gritty path you've got your eyes on the other the whole time, certain that you're making a mistake.
And if your parents have you for a reason, then that reason better exist. Because once it's gone, so are you.
How am I suppose to think about Anna Fitzgerald when I'm wondering whether Julia has ever woken up in someone's arms and for just a moment, before the sleep cleared from her mind, thought maybe it was me?
I sometimes wonder if it is just me, or if there are other women who figure out where they are supposed to be by going nowhere.
It is so easy to think that the world revolves around you, but all you have to do is stare up at the sky to realize it isn't that way at all.
My mother moves so fast I do not even see it coming. But she slaps my face hard enough to make my head snap backward. She leaves a print that stains me long after it's faded. Just so you know: shame is five-fingered.
There are two reasons not to tell the truth--becuase lying will get you what you want, and because lying will keep someone from getting hurt.
You know how the tightrope guy at the circus wants everyone to believe his act is an art, but deep down you can see that he's really just hoping he makes it all the way across?
And the very act of living is a tide; at first it seems to make no difference at all, and then one day you look down and see how much pain has eroded
How does someone go from thinking that if he cannot rescue, he must destroy? And do you blame him, or do you blame the folks who should have told him otherwise?
I thought lightning wasn't supposed to strike in the same place twice....sure it does...but only if you're too dumb to move.
It is the things you cannot see coming that are strong enough to kill you.
No matter who you are, there is some part of you that always wishes you were someone else.
There is a curious thing that happens with the passage of time: a calcification of character.
As for his name, well, what attorney wouldn't want to be able put a Judge in a crate every now and then?
I ...understand how a parent might hit a child- it's because you can look into their eyes and see a reflection of yourself that you wish you hadn't.
I used to pretend that I was just passing through this family on my way to my real one.
It's about a girl who is on the cusp of becoming someone.. A girl who may not know what she wants right now, and she may not know who she is right now, but who deserves the chance to find out.
Normal, in our house, is like a blanket too short for a bed--sometimes it covers you just fine, and other times it leaves you cold and shaking; and worst of all, you never know which of the two it's going to be.
There is nothing worse than silence, strung like heavy beads on too delicate a conversation.
But it was like wearing a size five sneakers when your foot is a seven- you can get by for a few steps, and then you set down and pull off the shoes because it just plain much
I asked her sister for a cell number, at least, but something tells me that 401-GO2-HELL is out of service.
I used to think I'd be just like them when I grew up, but I am not. And the thing is, somewhere along the way, I stopped wanting to be like them, anyway.
It's disappointing to know that someone can see right through you.
Nowadays, I dont have expectations, and this way she beats them all.
They don't really pay attention to me, except when they need my blood or something. I wouldn't even be alive, if it wasn't for Kate being sick.
Change isn't always for the worst; the shell that forms around a piece of sand looks to some people like an irritation., and to others, like a pearl.
I can give or take elephants; I never can find the cheetah-but the zebras captivate me. They'd be one of the few things that would fit if we were lucky enough to live in a world that's black or white.
I wondered what happened when you offered yourself to someone, and they opened you, only to discover you were not the gift they expected and they had to smile and nod and say thank you all the same.
It's hard to be the one always waiting. I mean, there's something to be said for the hero who charges off to battle, but when you get right down to it there's a whole story in who's left behind.
On my license, it says I'm an organ donor, but the truth is I'd consider being an organ martyr. I'm sure I'm worth a lot more dead than alive - the sum of the parts equal more than the whole. I wonder who might wind up walking around with my liver, my lungs, even my eyeballs. I wonder what poor asshole would get stuck with whatever it is in me that passes for a heart.
This is when I realize that Anna has already left the table, and more importantly, that nobody noticed.
Clearly God was in some kind of mood on my birthday.
I can't answer a single one of these, which is how I know that whether I'm ready or not, I'm growing up.
If you focus on sandbagging the beachhead, you can ignore the tsunami that's approaching. Try it any other way and you'll go crazy.
Jos plaukai dabar yra ilgesni, o abipus jos burnos matyti dvi plonos rauksles, tarytum kliausteliai, gaubiantys milijona zodziu, kuriu as neturejau galimybes isgirsti.
Parenting is really just a matter of tracking, of hoping your kids do not get so far ahead you can no longer see their next moves.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories