Jl Quotes

And, at such a time, for a few of us there will always be a tugging at the heart—knowing a precious moment had gone and we not there. We can ask and ask but we can’t have again what once seemed ours for ever—the way things looked, that church alone in the fields, a bed on belfry floor, a remembered voice, a loved face. They’ve gone and you can only wait for the pain to pass.

Me, a tease? I am not. I put out...thank you very much. - Jamie Killian

If I’d stayed there, would I always have been happy? No, I suppose not. People move away, grow older, die, and the bright belief that there will be another marvelous thing around each corner fades. It is now or never; we must snatch at happiness as it flies.

So, do you clean, too?” “Hell, no!.. I’m gay ... not a damn housewife!” Everybody laughed. (The Tin Star)

The first breath of autumn was in the air, a prodigal feeling, a feeling of wanting, taking, and keeping before it is too late.

I am so ready to fly this nest

My father told me about you. I am here to make sure you feel comfortable. Would you like to come out and meet the others?

All right, see you then. Auwaa” — peace, said King Kaskae.

It's sad to fall asleep. It separates people. Even when you're sleeping together, you're all alone.

I swore I'd never become some lord's brainless arm ornament and political host, but I've become far worse. I'm a glorified housekeeper and sperm donor. -from the journal of Payton Marcus Townsend.

Where am I going, sir?” Fear shot through his stomach. He had nowhere else to go.

You may not realize it yet, but you’re mine. Not because I am claiming you. You’re mine because that’s how it is.

He thought about their anthem, You’ll Never Walk Alone, and felt worse.

Use your new distance vision; we are very high up, it is difficult for anyone to see us,” said Sirmiq to Alick.

Not only did I manage to accidentally meet the man I’m investigating, I managed to accidentally have sex with him.

The night was silent and full of ghostly beauty, so strange since it was as bright as day.

The only thing I want from you is you.

He reminds me a bit of myself – I had to learn quickly when I was young.

To Alick, Shaylee looked like an exotic angel.

There are many things money can buy, but the most valuable of all is freedom. Freedom to do what you want and to work for whom you respect.

Welcome back to Faeryland, your Majesty," said the elder man.

The Lightholders are holy and pure-spirited beings

I didn’t have anyone, but every time I walked through those doors I felt like each of those authors was my family and the characters they created were all my friends. I counted on them. They were all I ever had. All I still have. Now that the store may go out of business I feel like I’m losing my family and friends. I love all my books. Being a book lover saved my life.

Anxious, depressed, psychotic, lunatic, bipolar, manic - you name it, I attract it. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? In some circles I am known as the Pied Piper of Mental Illness.

I was thinking of Cambridge, and then I got a bit homesick for a minute, 'cause I never been this far away from home before. But the I remember you're here, and now I'm not homesick no more.

That was the missed moment. I should have put out a hand and taken her arm and said, "Here I am. Ask me. Now. The real question! Tell me. While I'm here. Ask me before it's too late.

Let’s try it,” he said. “This is serious,” she said. “You could get hurt. Or die.” “But if we can touch, that means we can make out, right?” he asked. “Maybe.” “You want me to risk my life for maybe?” He grinned.

I went and kissed him to wake him up just like Sleeping Beauty. Although I guess with me it was more like Beauty and the Beast.

The colors were brighter, the air was fresher, and the flowers more beautiful than any that the teens had ever seen.

But us women, well, we like our egos stroked every once in a while and a boy mourning over us is a huge boost

What's first?" He took another swig. "I don't know. You're the one fucking this chicken. I'm just holding it's wings.

Another time, another place, I'd back you to that wall right there, or any place you wanted to go, and do everything in my power to wipe him from your mind.

Clare, this…what we’re doing? It has to be all or nothing. And I want all of you. When you cry, I want to be the one holding you. No matter the reason. So please, let me hold you.

In a daze, Remi stepped up to the battered old bar, next to Rhys. "What will it be?" the bartender asked Remi. "I'll have a Jake and Coke-uh, Jack and Cock, uh-" Oh fuck. Remi stopped talking. He could actually feel his face heat with a blush. Someone shoot me.

Will you keep me safe?” she whispered. ”I promise.” ”Then I’ll go anywhere with you.

You psychotic little Georgia Peach.

You own the things you own and they in turn own you.

I got zero on a maths test once," I said. "The teacher said he'd wanted to give me a minus number, but the computer wouldn't let him.

I've been an idiot." "That's okay," I said. "You're still way cleverer than me".

It’s not hard. Stop thinking about what your money can buy. Start thinking about what your money can earn. And then think about what the money it earns can earn.

Travis, if I don’t come back…avenge me.” Dimples in full view, Travis laughed. “It would be my pleasure.

Well, all my friends are gone,' Seth said. 'But they did all gang up and murder me. True friends don't really do that.

By nature we are creatures of hope, always ready to be deceived again, caught by the marvel that might be wrapped in the grubbiest brown paper parcel.

Ah, those days...for many years afterwards their happiness haunted me. Sometimes, listening to music, I drift back and nothing has changed. The long end of summer. Day after day of warm weather, voices calling as night came on and lighted windows pricked the darkness and, at day-break, the murmur of corn and the warm smell of fields ripe for harvest. And being young. If I'd stayed there, would I always have been happy? No, I suppose not. People move away, grow older, die, and the bright belief that there will be another marvelous thing around each corner fades. It is now or never; we must snatch at happiness as it flies.

After all we speak of people 'taking refuge' in vagueness -the more precise you are, in general the more likely you are to be wrong, whereas you stand a good chance of not being wrong if you make it vague enough.

Do you have any idea what your sacrifice was?” he asked Chase. “Yeah, my sanity,” he mumbled under his breath. I kicked him.

Now what kind of guy would I be if I backed out now?” A decent one, a smart one, an alive one, because I swear I was going to kill him.

Chase and Travis were in for some hardcore payback. Bitch style. - Angel

I'm sticking with you, Jenny said. 'Want me to kill them?' 'No, thanks. Sweet of you to offer, though.

Can I have Jake and Coke--uh, Jack and Cock

How do you move when you feel like you can't go on.? You think of someone who needs you more.

All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art. JL Borges

There was so much time that marvelous summer. Day after day, mist rose from the meadow as the sky lightened and hedges, barns and woods took shape until, at last, the long curving back of the hills lifted away from the Plain. It was a sort of stage-magic.

Please go" he said. "Just take my money - take anything - and go" I didn't get why he wanted me to take something, but he seemed really worried about it. So I looked around, and he had a bowl of fruit on the side, so I grabbed an apple, 'cause I always get hungry after I've been drinking. "I'll take this, okay?" Then I left him there, but I took the knives and I hid them in the hall cupboard, just in case.

Two broken hearts—we would destroy each other before we even had a chance to begin.

Look again at those people around you. For most, debt is simply a part of life. But it doesn’t have to be for you. You weren’t born to be a slave.

I felt drunk on Chase and high on summertime. Why did that sound just like a country song?

You can run Angel, but I’ll always find you,” he said smirking. - Chase Winters

That’s my darling little doggie. Bubbles by name, bubbles for brains. You’ve got to love him.

I vant to zuk your blood." He waved his black gloved hands above his head as he tried out his awful Transylvanian accent. "You vish," She replied.

I feel like my world is crumbling beneath my feet but Damon walks in and I have something to grab onto. It’s frightening and comforting all in the same.

His warm eyes stay locked onto mine and I want to melt right on the spot. I know him but I don’t. I want him but I don’t. I need him but I don’t.

His presence is the medicine that soothes my wounds.

I live to make you smile, Josephine.

Some people just find denial more attractive than adjusting their beliefs to new information.

You can always fall, Savannah, because I will be the one catching you.

A thing of beauty, like an approaching storm. It was hard not to respect, even though you knew it was likely to erupt any moment.

Love is the only thing that you get more of when you give it away.

You're murderers," she told the stunned crowd. "You killed him. He was a miracle, and you killed him. Now you've just got me. And I'm a curse.

We can ask and ask but we can't have again what once seemed ours for ever - the way things looked, that church alone in the fields, a bed on a belfry floor, a remembered voice, the touch of a hand, a loved face. They've gone and you can only wait for the pain to pass. All this happened so long ago. And I never returned, never wrote, never met anyone who might have given me news of Oxgodby. So, in memory, it stays as I left it, a sealed room furnished by the past, airless, still, ink long dry on a put-down pen. But this was something I knew nothing of as I closed the gate and set off across the meadow.

Dogs find me irresistible." He lowered his voice to a conspiring whisper, aiming to put her at ease. "It's an alpha thing." Which was true, but was totally outrageous for him to claim.

Ashleigh’s a manipulative liar,” Jenny said. “She makes Dick Cheney look like Mr. Rogers.” “That is an ugly thing to say about Dick Cheney!” Dr. Goodling snapped. “And my daughter, as well.

My heart resides with you.

Clare, you have noticed I’m a guy, right? Because if not, I can pull this car over right now and make that abundantly clear.

I’m an apple expert. Apples are the only exam I could ever hope to pass.

...I got to chase my dream for a while, see what it's like, but this—" He stood and swept his arms wide. "This, and my family, is worth any price.

- had a million things to do today; death would have to wait, - (The Tin Star)

… war fucks everybody without discretion …

They say time heals all wounds, but they fail to mention it’s a bitch of a journey.

I want a clean slate with you, Clare. You’re special to me. I don’t know what we’re doing or where it’s going but I’ve never felt anything like this, and I can’t mess that up by doing the same shit I’ve always done.

Why don't you write a story for me?” “Really?” I squeaked. “Um, what about?” “Well, something with a good guy and a bad guy and a hot chick.” …”Okay, anything else?” “The hot chick has to have pretty blonde hair and kickass blue eyes,” ….”And the good guy is a musically talented man who is incredibly sexy...?” He grinned and kissed me. “Not at all – that's the bad guy. And I don't care if he wins or loses – that doesn't make a difference.” He shifted and hovered over me, kissing me again – and again and again and again...His lips lingered over mine as he whispered: “I just want the bad guy to get the girl.

He'd made a complete ninny of himself. Wentworth probably thought he'd never been kissed before. Which couldn't be farther from the truth. Colton had been kissed at least three times just last season.

A parable: The Monk and the Minister Two close boyhood friends grow up and go their separate ways. One becomes a humble monk, the other a rich and powerful minister to the king. Years later they meet. As they catch up, the portly minister (in his fine robes) takes pity on the thin and shabby monk. Seeking to help, he says: “You know, if you could learn to cater to the king, you wouldn’t have to live on rice and beans.” To which the monk replies: “If you could learn to live on rice and beans, you wouldn’t have to cater to the king.” Most all of us fall somewhere between the two. As for me, it is better to be closer to the monk.

I'll just stay ten feet away from him at all times so I don't accidentally trip and fall and land lips first on his mouth.

Dear God, that man has a magnificent body.' ............. 'It’s like having a cupcake thrust in front of your face and not being allowed to have a lick of the icing.

Kiss me one last time Skye... before I die. I want to enter heaven with the taste of you on my lips.

WITHIN THESE WALLS, he became my solace, my sanctuary, and my strength. Like a white knight, he saved me from a life of gray and showed me a world full of color.

Being a gentleman is highly overrated.

I wanted to jam that pencil down his throat. He wouldn’t be chuckling then.

Watching him is intoxicating. I couldn’t dream up a more beautiful man.

If you forget your dreams on waking, does that mean they never happened? That the people in them never existed?

Reach into the past and remember the reasons you fell in love. Hold on to that, son, and cherish it. Then you must start moving forward again.

Love is many things. It’s every raw human emotion rolled up into one messy four letter word. There’s no rule book and definitely no guarantees.

It is not enough to show how clever we are by showing how obscure everything is".

He leans down, brushing his lips over my ear. “I’m scared.” His whisper nearly breaks me. “I’ve fallen for you, Savannah. Please catch me.

She had died before, and it wasn’t so bad.

I may not have owned a Mercedes, but I owned my freedom. Freedom to choose when to leave a job and freedom from worry when the choice wasn’t mine.

If you choose to do the right thing, it's a conscious decision at first. Then it becomes second nature. You don't have to think about what is right because doing the right thing becomes who you are, like a reflex. Your actions with time become your character

Larry said that Michelangelo was a poof, so I wondered why he’d sculpted a guy with a really tiny cock. But I know when you go to old houses, the doorways are much smaller, ’cause people were shorter then, so maybe cocks were smaller too. It makes me glad I wasn’t born a few centuries ago.

Life—it really did go on, even after insurmountable grief, debilitating sorrow and a life waiting to begin. As long as we were able to love and be loved in this world, no heart would ever be beyond repair.

Here’s the simple formula: Spend less than you earn—invest the surplus—avoid debt

He kicked my ass, but he also treated me like a person and not just some girl.

You know...acting like a dick...won't make yours any bigger.

'You must've been waiting for someone like me to come along,' I said. I meant, because of the big bed. But Larry looked at me all funny and said, 'Yes, I think I was.'

Some people come into your life as blessings; others come into your life as lessons.

I’ll wait. For however long it takes, Clare. I’m yours.

When a bloke takes you out for a meal You’d think sex would be part of the deal Not a pat on the head And a cold lonely bed When he leaves without copping a feel

Books are what you love. They are what you know. It's obviously your passion. I didn't want you to lose that. You've lost enough

Philosophers often seem to think that they can just 'assign' any meaning whatever to any word; and so no doubt, in an absolutely trivial sense, they can (like Humpty-Dumpty).

If a man is straight, there is no reason for him to feel threatened by a gay man.

Stop thinking about what your money can buy. Start thinking about what your money can earn.

In all of us, there is a child that exists while we have our parents. With my mother gone, I feel a sadness for the loss of the child within myself.

Life wasn't meant to be decided at once. That's a part of being human; you decided as you go along. Sure, it might make life easier if you have everything mapped out ahead of time but it can also make it pretty dull.

'That another one of your rules, Bit? No touching, no kissing, no flirting?' 'You forgot no calling me Bit.' 'Yeah, I don't like that one. I don't think I like the no flirting either.'

Singular Touch. With that singular touch of his precious warm hand, His finger slowly skimmed her porcelain cheek. As her eyes fell upon his delicate soul, It was then he knew, He had captured every single ounce of her being.

C, it was like my breath was stolen. My heart seemed to merge with yours. When you came into my life, all I wanted was you. All I thought about was you. Your smile, your laugh, your lips, and your eyes seemed to hold me captive.” ~Tru~

You forget that every fallen angel was once an angel themselves. Monsters don’t really want to be monsters. We’re just like everyone else, waiting for someone to come save us from our very own damned darkness.

Even the darkest of hearts needs a little comfort from time to time.

She came to me, and I wanted to be her healer and protector … I needed a night taking care of the little girl who had stolen a piece of my heart.

Nothing is wrong. It’s merely what you think is right and wrong that has you confused.

sometimes when a friendship goes beyond normal borders and you find a sister, rather than an ordinary friend, conversations aren’t necessary.

I wanted you to know, because you are the only woman I’ve ever wanted to share my bed with, or bring home. Clare, you are my home.

The skies have been filled with amethyst tears.

I am ashamed to admit that I have contemplated living versus ending it all.

The blank page, otherwise known as the vast playground of the writer's imagination.

Al, you're the most wonderful man I've ever been terrified by down a dark alleyway. Will you marry me?

He said, "Al, that's the stupidest question you've ever asked in your life," but I don't reckon it was. I bet I ask way stupider questions that that every day.

No matter how much he loved me. No matter how much I loved him in return. I would never, ever belong to another person. As long as I lived.

My heart is incredibly invested in this man, tangled in a web of love that almost makes it difficult to breathe.

…I will be your sword. I will be your shield. I will defend you until my last breath. This vow I swear freely, to be your weapon as long as you shall live.

Oh, so suddenly you’re an expert in crazy?” “After meeting you, I feel I could write a thesis on the subject,

If love finds you again, don’t fight it. Don’t let grief hold you back. Love is a risk. There are no guarantees. But, in the end, it is always, always worth it.

I could use all the confidence I could get. If possible, I would steal some from the egotistical Chase. He had more than enough to spare.

...if your man sleeps with men, there is nothing sexually you can do that will make him stop.

I gave the wretched beast a look that said plainly I’ll deal with you later. He flicked his tail at me, cat-speak for Do I look like I’m bothered?

Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable. —SYDNEY J. HARRIS

i didn't think you remembered my name."Lucas narrowed his eyes back as a tiny smile flitted across his face. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and placed his mouth close to my ear. "Of course i did, love. I always remember the names i moan out in pleasure.

But I know when you go to old houses, the doorways are much smaller, ’cause people were shorter then, so maybe cocks were smaller too. It makes me glad I wasn’t born a few centuries ago.

With a hand on the back of his neck, Raleigh pulled him down until their foreheads touched. “I love you. I want to suffocate you in your sleep with your pillow sometimes, but I love you.” Steven chuckled and nipped Raleigh’s full bottom lip. “I love you too, Cony.” Running his fingers through the back of the thick black hair, Steven urged Raleigh forward. “Please don’t murder me in my sleep.” Their lips met.

If you’re looking for lollipops and rainbows while you shop for the latest best seller, you best not come to me. I won’t chat you up and tell you how cute your kid is. I won’t smile and flirt. I won’t stroke your ego about the jewelry you are wearing or the shirt you have on. I will help you find what you need. I will recommend books and hell I even talk about what I liked about one book over another but all that other shit is just not my thing.

My stomach knotted up as heat surged through me. Why did I feel like melting every time I saw him, or heard him talk? “Stop that right now.” I blushed. “I know what you’re doing, Jace, and it’s not going to work.” Jace and Charlie.

Novel-writing can be a cold-blooded business. One uses whatever happens to be lying around in memory and employs it to suit one’s end….Then, again, during the months whilst one is writing about the past, a story is colored by what presently is happening to its writer. So, imperceptibly, the tone of voice changes, original intentions slip away. And I found myself looking through another window at a darker landscape inhabited by neither the present nor the past.

I was so afraid that I’d never be able to love anyone, and here I was, holding a child I desperately wanted to call my own and upstairs was a woman I would give my life for. Turns out I was always capable of love, I just hadn’t found it yet.

You never did...anything else with Ren?" I knew he wasn't talking about me painting him and stuff. "Why would I want him when I got you?" And then I got worried, 'cause I wasn't sure if I still had Larry or not.

Avoid fiscally irresponsible people and certainly don't marry one.

I saw you on that beach and I knew that you had to be mine. I had to have you. I knew that you were who I was looking for. I would have waited for you forever if I had to.

And fairy tales are make-believe. They are the stories we tell to small children to make them believe the world is a far better place than it really is.

I pinned her with my weight (thank God for that box of cupcakes I'd eaten earlier).

Blaze? What kind of name is that? It sounds like a male stripper.

Knut, this is Jude. Remember I told you about him? He writes poetry.” Knut looked my half-Japanese self up and down. “Haiku?” he guessed. “Gesundheit,” I muttered sourly.

I frowned. “Are you sure about this? It’s a bit short.” “So? It’s poetry, not dick size.

A pirate once shouted ‘Avast! I’ve caught you, you seadog, at last! Best pull out your sword— I’m coming aboard! Drop your britches, and climb up me mast!

The idea of having faith in anything to a homeless teenager is just asinine.

I am tied up in nothing but stilettos and I feel hot.

I was going to buy Larry something, but he said I should spend it on something I always wanted. So I bought a cat.

Natural childbirth —I would never understand it. It was like going to the dentist and saying, "Novocain? No thanks. Just go in there Doc and rip that sucker right out!

I can’t let it happen. I can’t risk it. I have to protect you, and I will. With every breath in me, I will.

We did sixty-nine that night. Larry went on top so he didn’t get squished. He’s really good at sucking dick. I wondered if he’d got exams in that too.

Her scream of utter horror and fright was a sound that no one in the chamber would ever forget. ~Crispin.~

I think you dropped something, Pipe,” he said. “Uh, what?” “Your standards,” he sneered.

I can’t believe you ran out on me, and I’m pretty sure you left your balls behind.

Sweet," Stacey said. "Well, let's go check out the dark basement of the abandoned insane asylum. Nothing could possibly go wrong down there.

But the thing is, if you do survive, when it's all said and done, you still have to live with yourself.

Power fears truth above all things—more than bullets, more than bombs, more than death itself, because truth can destroy powerful men even as they lie in their graves.

God. How would I cope if I went to jail? I'd never even been to boarding school.

Simple is good. Simple is easier. Simple is more profitable.

A schoolgirl forbidden from school is like a bird forbidden from the sky.

Love isn’t for the weak, it’s for those brave enough to risk it all.

And, at such a time, for a few of us there will always be a tugging at the heart—knowing a precious moment had gone and we not there.

* a stór (uh stohr)—Irish Gaelic; meaning my darling, or my treasure

Two souls don't find each other by simple accident.

The black church must preach the truth and become a place where all men can come and hear the word without feeling they will be judged or ostracized, regardless of their sexual orientation.

Jace’s husky voice almost came out in a purr. He said, “You want to make a bet on that, Charlie.” Oh yeah, he can sell that stuff alright. “No worries,” Jace was saying. “I only have eyes for you.” He touched the tip of my nose with his finger. I swatted him away. Jace laughed. ~Jace~

If your goal is financial independence, it is also to hold as little debt as possible. This means you’ll seek the least house to meet your needs rather than the most house you can technically afford.

I always thought that courageous people were those who were not afraid. Meeting Franciszka and her daughter, I realize that courageous people are afraid like everyone else. They just act despite the fear.

Your rack looks fabulous in this dress. You should wear this one. He’ll lose his shit when he sees you in it.” “You always know the right things to say,” I joked. “I know. I’m like a super-hot version of Yoda.

There wasn't a moment when I was gone that I didn't think of you, Savannah. You're like a goddamn drug that's making me weak at the knees. It's taking every ounce of my self control not to kiss you right now". "I wouldn't stop you".

But the simple truth is this: the more complex an investment is, the less likely it is to be profitable. Index funds outperform actively managed funds in large part simply because actively managed funds require expensive active managers. Not only are they prone to making investing mistakes, their fees are a continual performance drag on the portfolio.

Deep red hollyhocks pressed against the limestone wall and velvet butterflies flopped lazily from flower to flower. It was Tennyson weather, drowsy, warm, unnaturally still.

We can ask and ask but we can't have again what once seemed ours forever—the way things looked, that church alone in the fields, a bed on a belfry floor, a remembered voice, the touch of a hand, a loved face. They've gone and you can only wait for the pain to pass. All this happened so long ago. And I never returned, never wrote, never met anyone who might have given me news of Oxgody. So, in memory, it stays as I left it, a sealed room furnished by the past, airless, still, ink long dry on a put-down pen. But this was something I knew nothing of as I closed the gate and set off across the meadow.

Wait! Wait!” The beggar called out from behind her. “I can see! I’m healthy!” Hilda smiled to herself, pleased. “You just took away my livelihood! Do you have any idea how hard it is out here for a healthy beggar?” The man sounded almost angry.

Remi groaned, grabbing his face in both hands. 'Goddamn it! I'm sick and fucking tired of my eyes shifting.' He dropped his hands and pointed to Jonathon's body. 'And that is just gross. Why do I want to eat it?' He stormed off toward the house.

I might not survive Clare. She was truly my ultimate temptation. I never wanted anything more and yet fought so hard against it. But I knew I needed this. I knew she needed this. I had to start this off right. She deserved it, she deserved everything.

So come on, tell me all the dirt about your date. Did he tie you up with his black belt? Show off his mystic knowledge of Eastern sex practices? What?” I let my head slump into my hands. “He gave me a kiss and said good night.” “He didn’t! The bastard.

You may not realize it yet, but you’re mine. Not because I am claiming you. You’re mine because that’s how it is. I feel like I have waited my whole life to find you. Before we met in that store I dreamed of you every night. I wondered where you were and when I’d find you. Now that I have, you’d be crazy if you think I would just let you go. I don’t see a need for protection. I don’t want a damn thing between us.

What you feel for me, is it caused by your vampirism, or do you yourself feel that way? Because, I mean, I guess I AM, technically, like a walking hamburger. Who wouldn't want a free meal?" I asked tentatively.

Look, I really appreciate you bringing me here, but I think there’s something you ought to know about me.” David smiled. “If it’s that you’re gay—“ Oh, puh-leeze. “No—God, no. I mean, yes, obviously, I’m fruitier than a greengrocers’ convention, but no, that wasn’t what I was about to say.

But that goes for most of us, doesn't it? We look blankly at each other. Here I am, here you are. What are we doing here? What do you suppose it's all about? Let's dream on. Yes, that's my Dad and Mum over there on the piano top. My eldest boy is on the mantel piece...I go to work at eight and come home at five-thirty. When I retire they will give me a clock--with my name engraved on the back. Now you know all about me. Go away: I've forgotten you already.

He would never forget her. The distance he forced had done nothing to soothe his aching soul. It had done nothing to diminish that she was his. He tried to deny it at first, thinking it nothing more than a cosmic mistake, but after a month without a glimpse of her, there was no question. She belonged to him.

I got Larry to pose for me first off. It took awhile before I got any sketches done, though, ’cause every time he got his kit off, we ended up fucking. Then Larry had a good idea. He said we should fuck first and do pictures after, and that worked pretty good. I love looking at Larry when he’s just been fucked.

Seth and Jenny after they've escaped Alexander in Mexico. Seth: "Here's what we need to do. Find a flat area, like a farm, a little bit out of the way where we can spend a little time." Seth unbuttoned his black fatigues. Jenny: "Seth, I think we have more urgent things to think about..." Seth: "I know." He pushed his pants down to his knees. "I want to show you something. Jenny: "I've seen it before." Seth: "Ha ha." Seth tugged back the leg of his boxer shorts to reveal a black band around one thigh with a circular device mounted on it.

Summertime! And summertime in my early twenties! And in love! No, better than that - secretly in love, coddling it up in myself. It's an odd feeling, coming rarely more than once in most of our lifetimes. In books, as often as not, they represent it as a sort of anguish but it wasn't so for me. Later perhaps, but not then.

Hope was an emotion that could give the smallest man the strength to move mountains. But if a man was given too much hope in a dire situation, that four letter word would suddenly crush him, weighing him down by the impossible belief that things would somehow get better when there was no chance in hell they ever possibly could.

Here are a few key guidelines to consider: Spend less than you earn—invest the surplus—avoid debt. Do simply this and you’ll wind up rich. Not just in money. Carrying debt is as appealing as being covered with leeches and has much the same effect. Take out your sharpest knife and start scraping the little bloodsuckers off. If your lifestyle matches—or god forbid exceeds—your income, you are no more than a gilded slave. Avoid fiscally irresponsible people. Never marry one or otherwise give him or her access to your money. Avoid investment advisors. Too many have only their own interests at heart. By the time you know enough to pick a good one, you know enough to handle your finances yourself. It’s your money and no one will care for it better than you. You own the things you own and they in turn own you. Money can buy many things, but nothing more valuable than your freedom. Life choices are not always about the money, but you should always be clear about the financial impact of the choices you make.

Feeling inspired, I grabbed one of Jay’s cookbooks from the kitchen shelf and flicked through until I found a recipe for something I recognised. Lasagna. That was just pasta, and pasta was easy, right? Trying not to be put off by the list of ingredients longer than my small intestine, I scanned the instructions. Chop onions… I could do that. Brown mince…trickier but manageable. Probably. Make a roux in the usual way… I sighed, shut the book with a snap and went off to make dinner in my usual way: pierce film; bung in microwave; wait for bell.

What do you think he saw?" Damn--I regret the awed way I phrased that and the hushed voice I used. As if I think acid is a "religious" experience, a visionary thing. "Himself," Josh says. "You always see your true self on acid. You just usually see more than you want to see. So it all seems disorted." See what I mean? He's not your normal stoner. The guy should become a poet, a psychologist, a scientist. We pull up near Greg's house and stare at it like it's a damn fortress. "You don't think he needs to go to the hospital?" I ask. "Nope," Josh says. "For a while, I thought maybe, yeah. But he's good now, he's off it, he's not hallucinating anymore." "You're sure?" "Yeah." "'Cuz you can die on LSD-" "That's such anti-drug propaganda bullshit, Dan," Josh interrupts. "Nobody's ever died from an LSD overdose. Ever. As long as you keep people from doing stupid things while they're tripping, it's all good man, man. Why do you think I babysat him?" He reaches into the backseat and punches my shoulder. "LSD isn't your dad's smack. So stop worrying." I scrunch down in the seat. How'd he know about that? "Right. What's the plan?" "I'd ask him if ther was a key hidden under a rock," Josh says, "but he's not gonna be much help. Watch." He pokes Greg in the leg, prods him on the shoulder, grabs his cheeks and smushes them together, the way parents do to a baby, and says, " Ootchi googi Greggy, did ums have a good trippy? Did ums find out itty-bitty singies about oos-self zat oos didn't likeums?" Yup... Greg was in his own little world...

The world was at her feet, and she didn’t even know it. None of them did—the normal ones; the ones who didn’t have to worry about the day to day, hour to hour, and minute to minute; the masses of people who woke up each and every day not fearing the hours ahead and the day that would follow; or those who didn’t have to wonder if they’d be around to celebrate the next holiday. How easily people took life for granted when it had so easily been given. How I wished for such simplicity.

I never exchanged a word with the Colonel. He has no significance at all in what happened during my stay in Oxgodby. As far as I’m concerned he might just as well have gone round the corner and died. But that goes for most of us, doesn’t it? We look blankly at each other. Here I am, here you are. What are we doing here? What do you suppose it’s all about? Let’s dream on. Yes, that’s my Dad and Mum over there on the piano top. My eldest boy is on the mantelpiece. That cushion cover was embroidered by my cousin Sarah only a month before she passed on. I go to work at eight and come home at five-thirty. When I retire they’ll give me a clock – with my name engraved on the back. Now you know all about me. Go away: I’ve forgotten you already.

By the end of the second day a very fine head was revealed. Yes, a very fine head indeed, sharp beard, drooped mustache, heavy-lidded eyes outlined black. And no cinnabar on the lips; that was a measure of my painter’s caliber: excitingly as cinnabar first comes over, he’d known that, given twenty years, lime would blacken it. And, as the first tinges of garment appeared, that prince of blues, ultramarine ground from lapis lazuli, began to show—that really confirmed his class—he must have fiddled it from a monastic job—no village church could have run to such expense. (And abbeys only took on the top men.) But it was the head, the face, which set a seal on his quality. For my money, the Italian masters could have learned a thing or two from that head. This was no catalogue Christ, insufferably ethereal. This was a wintry hardliner. Justice, yes there would be justice. But not mercy. That was writ large on each feature for when, by the week’s end, I reached his raised right hand, it had not been made perfect: it was still pierced. This was the Oxgodby Christ, uncompromising… no, more—threatening. “This is my hand. This is what you did to me. And, for this, man shall suffer the torment, for thus it was with me.

During any prolonged activity one tends to forget original intentions. But I believe that, when making a start on A Month in the Country, my idea was to write an easy-going story, a rural idyll along the lines of Thomas Hardy's Under the Greenwood Tree. And, to establish the right tone of voice to tell such a story, I wanted its narrator to look back regretfully across forty or fifty years but, recalling a time irrecoverably lost, still feel a tug at the heart. And I wanted it to ring true. So I set its background up in the North Riding, on the Vale of Mowbray, where my folks had lived for many generations and where, in the plow-horse and candle-to-bed age, I grew up in a household like that of the Ellerbeck family. Novel-writing can be a cold-blooded business. One uses whatever happens to be lying around in memory and employs it to suit one's ends. The visit to the dying girl, a first sermon, the Sunday-school treat, a day in a harvest field and much more happened between the Pennine Moors and the Yorkshire Wolds. But the church in the fields is in Northamptonshire, its churchyard in Norfolk, its vicarage London. All's grist that comes to the mill. Then, again, during the months whilst one is writing about the past, a story is colored by what presently is happening to its writer. So, imperceptibly, the tone of voice changes, original intentions slip away. And I found myself looking through another window at a darker landscape inhabited by neither the present nor the past.