Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons? You have scored your name into my shoulders, referenced me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks, you tap a message on to my skin, tap meaning into my body.
It wasn’t often he met someone who had her emotions so on display. Most of the women he knew were interested in more material things and kept their emotions well hidden beneath a mask of sophistication. It was refreshing to find someone who was so natural – so passionate.
The church is often called a killjoy for protesting against sexual license. But the real killing of joy comes with the grabbing of pleasure. As with credit card usage. the price tag is hidden at the start, but the physical and emotional debt incurred will take a long time to pay off.
Destroy your life; then put it back together.You'll get great material, meet some fascinating characters and – side benefit – the skills you develop will give you greater compassion, insight and range with the people you create on the page – or run into off of it.
Most people - and I'm guilty of it as well - think of passion as hot, fiery, impulsive. But listening to you made me realize that passion can be a deep, warm, steady flame too. The kind of fire that keeps a man warm at night - or melts an ice wall that would drown a flashier spark.
Quelque chose brûle en moi. J’attends et je n'attends pas. C’est peut-être dans cette rupture, dans cet instant, entre les deux pulsions, l’une qui va vers l’infini du oui, l’autre vers l’infini du non, qu’est le lieu de la vie.
When we make appreciation the central theme of our value system, then all the painful elements of our past become meaningful lessons we could not have done without. Acceptance becomes natural when we become adept at finding the silver lining, even in the most challenging circumstances.
It is not possible to be original by trying to be original - those who attempt this in the arts will be merely avant-garde. Originality is the product of an impulse to intense and overwhelming that it bursts the conventions and produces something new - again more by accident than design.
I sat up in the strange bed fearing it had been a dream, afraid I would never see her again. Not because I wanted anything from her, only her presence. The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onward towards death.
I pulled him close. “You can try your best. The only problem is after this is all over with reality is going to be waiting for me.”He took my shirt off and tossed it over his shoulder pulling me down on the couch. He kissed me again, biting at my lip. “Ignorance is bliss.
I see it, Jack. Your muse is back. The thing that gave you passion, tormented you, and haunted you is back. You're reeling in ecstasy and dread. It's something you want, but can't ever have. And the one that brings the pain is pure, white as snow... and standing in front of you.
She had missed him so long now, that the feeling had become a part of her. As each day passed, the missing distanced itself from her heart. One day she woke, and realized the missing was there but the pain was gone. Missing without pain is tolerable. Pain linked to heartache is intolerable.
Make sure you do not have friends otherwise you have to keep them at bay.""You was my friend too!"The brow of the young side stood up with surprise and he darkened even more. His eyes stole fire."Now I'm not?""I do not know anymore what you are!" I admitted with pain. Gods and Guardians
When you imagine and clearly articulate your goals in writing, you access the creative energy of your right brain. Imagination and creativity allow you to find solutions to problems that were not previously available to you and give your left brain an opportunity to be receptive to new ideas.
...some small part of her had reacted to the passion inside him. Despite his role as a titled gentleman, there seemed to be a facet inside him that society could not tame, something stimulating yet dangerous, like standing at the edge of a cliff and feeling the mysterious, subtle pull to jump.
