Mack Quotes

When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside—walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It's the saddest thing I know.

Then again, it was Jace. He'd pick a fight with a Mack truck if the urge took him.

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife, stuck in her back, back, back. She cannot breathe, breathe, breathe. She cannot cry, cry, cry. Thats why she begs, begs, begs. She begs to die, die ,die..

Jesus?" he whispered as his voice choked "I feel so lost" A hand reached out and squeezed his, and didn't let go. "I know Mack. But it's not true. I am with you and I'm not lost. I'm sorry it feels that way, but hear me clearly. You are not lost.

Does that mean," asked Mack, "that all roads will lead to you?" "Not at all," smiled Jesus..."Most roads don't lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you.

Why, oh why, had Jace picked a fight with a pack of wolves? What had possessed him? Then again, it was Jace. He'd pick a fight with a Mack truck if the urge took him. -Clary, pg.40-

Imagine The Greatest Hits of Bobby Darin minus 'Mack the Knife.' That's what my life would be like without you.

Andie: "Why can't you just let me go?" Mack: "I can't let you go because you're mine.

Bipolar illness, manic depression, manic-depressive illness, manic-depressive psychosis. That’s a nice way of saying you will feel so high that no street drug can compete and you will feel so low that you wish you had been hit by a Mack truck instead.

Surely my macking on some guy in an insane asylum wouldn't hurt him. He'd been living with his stalker, for heaven's sake.

Mr Freeman: "Art without emotion is like chocolate cake without sugar. It makes you gag." He sticks his finger down his throat. "The next time you work on your trees, don't think about trees. Think about love, or hate, or joy, or pain- whatever makes you feel something, makes your palms sweat, or your toes curl. Focus on that feeling. When people don't express themselves, they die on piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside- walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a mack truck to come along and finish the job. It's the saddest thing I know.

Don’t mind us,” Mack called. “They probably don’t get a lot of foreplay in hospital waiting rooms. You’re breakin’ the monotony of tears and tantrums. “Mack!” Carrie hissed. “Tate just kissed her, that’s hardly foreplay.” “You weren’t watchin’ close enough, honey. That was definitely foreplay.

You don't look so much like a great hero,' Jarrah said. 'I'm pretty sure I'm not,' Mack said wearily. 'My throat is hoarse from screaming in terror. I don't think heroes have that problem.

Who are we?” Mack said, standing all. “We’re the Bromance-Fucking-Book-Club.

Remember, the people who know me are the ones who are free to live and love without any agenda." "Is that what it means to be a Christian?" It sounded kind of stupid as Mack said it, but it was how he was trying to sum everything up in his mind. "Who said anything about being a Christian? I'm not a Christian." The idea struck Mack as odd and unexpected and he couldn't keep himself from grinning. "No, I suppose you aren't." They arrived at the door of the workshop. Again Jesus stopped. "Those who love me come from every system that exists. They were Buddhists or Mormons, Baptists or Muslim, Democrats, Republicans, and many who don't vote or are not part of any Sunday morning religious institutions. I have followers who were murderers and many who were self-righteous. Some were bankers and bookies, Americans and Iraquis, Jews and Palistinians. I have no desire to make them Christian, but I do want to join them in their transformation into sons and daughters of my Papa, into my brothers and sisters, into my Beloved." "Does that mean," asked Mack, "that all roads will lead to you?" "Not at all," smiled Jesus as he reached for the door handle to the shop. "Most roads don't lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you.

Look at them. There are your true philosophers. I think that Mack and the boys know everything that has ever happened in the world and possibly everything that will happen. I think they survive in this particular world better than other people. In a time when people tear themselves to pieces with ambition and nervousness and covetousness, they are relaxed. All of our so-called successful men are sick men, with bad stomachs, and bad souls, but Mack and the boys are healthy and curiously clean. They can do what they want. They can satisfy their appetites without calling them something else.

We must cherish one another, watch over one another, comfort one another, and gain instruction that we may all sit down in heaven together.

Forgiveness is not about forgetting, Mack. It is about letting go of another person's throat.

Our Father who art in nature, who has given the gift of survival to the coyote, the common brown rat, the English sparrow, the house fly and the moth, must have a great and overwhelming love for no-goods and blots-on-the-town and bums, and Mack and the boys. Virtues and graces and laziness and zest. Our Father who art in nature.

When you show me the type of love you need, I learn how to give it to you.

I really liked this cowboy. Mack. But I didn't know a single thing about him other than the fact that he doesn't wear underwear and he's got a big cock-a-doodle doo that he definitely knows how to use. Yee haw.

I had zero fear of Mack being the wrong kind of guy to invite up to my room. He totally didn't come off as rapist material. Me, on the other hand, I wasn't so sure about.

My visitors are often surprised when they see the TV Mack put in my domain. They seem to find it odd, the sight of a gorilla staring at tiny humans in a box. Sometimes I wonder, though: Isn't the way they stare at me, sitting in my tiny box, just as strange?

Manchmal war sie sich nicht sicher, wer die größere Macke hatte: der Autor, der sich diesen kranken Mist ausdachte, oder sie, die sie sogar Geld dafür bezahlte, um es sich mit Axtmördern und Psychopathen am Pool gemütlich machen zu können.

And then she fucking smiled at me, and it’s like somebody hit the button on a stopwatch and time restarted, flew forward. Now I’m racing into the weekend, eager to see her.

Don't ever think that what my Son chose to do didn't cost us dearly. Love always leaves a significant mark," she stated softly and gently. "We were there together." Mack was surprised. "At the cross? Now wait. I thought you left him - you know - 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?'" It was a Scripture that had often haunted Mack in The Great Sadness. "You misunderstand the mystery there. Regardless of what he felt at that moment, I never left him." "How can you say that? You abandonded him just like you abandoned me!" "Mackenzie, I never left him, and I have never left you." "That makes no sense to me," he snapped. "I know it doesn't, at least not yet. Will you at least consider this: when all you can see is your pain, perhaps then you lose sight of me?

I prefer the pen. There is something elemental about the glide and flow of nib and ink on paper.

Why don’t you lift the end?” said Alf. “It’s me back, Alf,” complained Mack. “You know how it troubles me.” “No more than mine troubles me,” said Alf. “But I said it first,” said Mack.

In the world of Big Macks Starbucks coffee and oversized SUVS it was business as usual snort and go

That Mack McGuire, he makes my heart flutter like a clean sheet on a long line.

They could get it," Doc said. "They could ruin their lives and get money. Mack has qualities of genius. They're all very clever if they want something. They just know the nature of things too well to be caught in wanting.

One day, some girl is gonna walk into your life and flip your whole world upside down and you’re not gonna know what the fuck to do with yourself except drop to your knees and beg her to never leave.

Because perfection is the opposite of authenticity, Mack.

I’ve made so many mistakes in my life. So many. But you, Ollie? You’re the first thing I’ve done right.

Mack was getting frustrated. He spoke louder, 'But, don't I have a right to...' To complete a sentence without being interrupted? Not in reality. But as long as you think you do, you will surely get ticked off when someone cuts you off, even if it is God.

Financial bitterness could not eat too deeply into Mack and the boys, for they were not mercantile men. They did not measure their joy in goods sold, their egos in bank balances, nor their loves in what they cost.

Does that mean,' said Mack, 'that all roads lead to you?' 'Not at all.' Jesus smiled as he reached for the door handle to the shop. 'Most roads don't lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you.

If your love was all I had for the rest of my life, that would be more than enough.

She’s beautiful, my perfect companion, like we were made at the same time, two halves of a whole meant to find and complete each other one day.

See, that’s the problem these days. No one has a sense of humor anymore. Offended at every damn thing.” Mack shook his head. “Dude, some shit was always offensive.” “No one minded in my day.” “Women did. You just decided their opinions didn’t count.

Physical strength doesn't mean a damn thing when you're all cut up and bleeding inside.

I love you through the perfect moments, and there are so many, but I will always love you through the imperfect ones too.

If you are able to judge God so easily, you certainly can judge the world. You must choose two of your children to spend eternity in God's new heavens and new earth....And you must choose three of your children to spend eternity in hell..... I am only asking you to do something that you believe God does. He knows every person ever conceived, and he knows them so much more deeply and clearly than you will ever know your own children...You believe he will condemn most to an eternity of torment, away from his presence and apart from his love." Mack: "I don't want to be the judge... I can't do this." You suppose then that God does this so easily, but you cannot?" This couldn't be real. How could God ask him to choose among his own children? Even if Katie or Josh, or Jon or Tyler committed some heinous crime, he still wouldn't do it. He couldn't! For him, it wasn't about their performance; it was about his love for them. Mack: "I can't, I can't....Could I go instead?....I'll go in their place...Could I do that?" He fell at her feet crying and begging now. "Please let me go for my children..I am begging you. Please...Please..." -"Now you sound like Jesus.....That is how Jesus loves.

You’re my favorite everything, Ollie.

One more thing," I said because I couldn't help myself. "Mallory, if your middle name is Audrey and your initials are M. A. K.. -" She raised an index finger. "Don't say it, Beantown." "We are totally calling you Mack now." "Mallory fumed. "My friends in Belfast used to call me that. Constantly." That wasn't a no so I decided we had permission.

What can it profit a man to gain the whole world and to come to his property with a gastric ulcer, a blown prostate and bifocals?Mack and the boys avoid the trap, walk around the poison, step over the noose while a generation of trapped,, poisoned, and trussed-up men scream at them and call them no-goods, come to bad ends, blot-on-the town-thieves, rascals, bums. Our Father who art in nature, who has given the gift of survival to the coyote, the common brown rat, the English sparrow, the house fly and the moth, must have a great and overwhelming love for no-goods and blots-on-the town and bums,, and Mack and the boys. Virtues and graces and laziness and zest. Our Father who art in nature.

I love you because you’re funny and snarky, sarcastic as all hell, and the night we met, you told me to go fuck myself.” He ignores the way Cara shrieks his name. “You’re also kind and soft, sensitive and sweet, the best auntie, and a teacher I would’ve died to have in high school. You’re not just my girlfriend; you’re my biggest cheerleader and my best friend.

I’m gonna light up your entire sky, the same way you do mine.

What if I fall in love with you?” “Then I’ll fall with you, too, Ollie girl.

Liv. Look at that man. I’ve never seen such a lovesick loser.

Cyrus Pembridge, the Never Land’s captain, was widely regarded as the most incompetent man to comman a ship since the formation of water. “Who in the name of common sense would put to sea on that ship with that man in charge?” wondered Mack. “Well,” Alf answered, “we are.” “True,” Mack said.

Good friends will take the weight off your shoulders and put it on theirs without needing to be asked, just to help you breathe.

What are you doing?" Mack yelled. The Russian vaulted over the hood of a car and came to a stop on the sidewalk. "Because it's grand gesture," he said. Mack grinned and patted his shoulder. "And we always run for grand gesture.

You're not my first choice, Rosie. You're the only goddamn option.

I’m feeling fuckin’ poetic at the moment, too,” Mack said on a laugh. “Oh yeah?” “Roses are fuckin’ red. Violets are ball-blue. You’re my bitch now, ’cause I fuckin’ love you,” Mack rasped. “Fucking poetic genius.

Sometimes, the more difficult road leads to the greatest destination.

Live Large!

I never could’ve dreamed I’d find my best friend. That in finding you, I’d find more of myself.

You shine way too fucking bright to stand in anyone’s shadow, Jennie.

That’s good, ’cause I love you in a million different ways, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life showing you how.

In fact, it’s possible that the only reason we can remember the past and not the future is that “things can only get worse” is a truth so universal that it shapes reality as we know it.

So why create the poisonous plants at all?” Mack queried, handing back the twig. (Sarayu answers) “Your question presumes that poison is bad; that such creations have no purpose. Many of these so-called bad plants, like this one, contain incredible properties for healing or are necessary for some of the most magnificent wonders when combined with something else. Humans have a great capacity for declaring something good or evil, without truly knowing.

Demanding? That’s because I am. I refuse to be without you. Absolutely refuse, because that’s the last place either of us belongs. You’re mine. My best friend and my lover, my only version of forever, and I don’t intend on ever letting you go. My only intention is to legally bind you to me for the rest of our lives.

I was lost before you, Ollie, and I’d be lost without you. You’re my best friend.

If you’re scared of falling in love with him, well… you’re already halfway there.

an electron accelerated to .9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999 times the speed of light would hit you with the same impact as a Mack truck traveling at normal speed.

For me, reading is so much more. Books teach you how other people think, and what they're feeling, and how they change from ordinary beings to extraordinary ones. Often they are so appealing and intelligent, you'd rather spend time reading about them than doing anything else.

Falling in love with you is like checking the very last thing off my bucket list.

I’m gonna love you the way you deserve to be loved every single day for the rest of your life and my life. I promise.

What are you most afraid of?” “Falling,” she answers quietly and without hesitation. My thumb skates across her lower lip. “I’ll catch you.” “Promise?” Bringing her to me, I sear her with a kiss that feels every bit like a future I never knew I wanted. “Promise.

She’s like…waking up on Christmas morning when you’re three years old and you finally understand what it’s all about. She’s the moment the rain stops and the sun comes out, lighting up the sky with color, and everything smells new and fresh. She’s the first skate on a frozen lake, surrounded by snowy mountains and pine trees and the freshest breath of air. She’s rolling over in the middle of the night, pulling that warm body into yours and curling around it, and everything’s just right.

Everything you see is in the past, as far as you’re concerned. If you look up at the Moon, you’re seeing a little over a second ago. The Sun is more than eight minutes in the past. And the stars you see in the night sky are deep in the past, from just a few years to millennia.

I love you so much. But I can’t bear to be with you if your heart isn’t in this with me.

Always be thankful for the little things... even the smallest mountains can hide the most breathtaking views!

The End" is just the beginning.

Never hold back from that which you desire to do. You will have no regrets, and no should haves.

Thou Shalt Not Mack on Your Patients

I waved and cried and smiled at the same time like Mum and Mrs Mack, so Sandy and Jeff remember us smiling not sobbing as they left.

We are a species poised between an awareness of our ultimate insignificance and an ability to reach far beyond our mundane lives, into the void, to solve the most fundamental mysteries of the cosmos.

When people don’t express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You’d be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside—walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It’s the saddest thing I know.

The best things in life are scary. That’s why we close our eyes when we jump. But we still jump, don’t we?

I don’t need you to take on my pain, Adam. I just need you to sit with me while I feel it. That’s enough for me.

Reminds me that accepting help doesn’t have to equal giving up my independence.

They’ve still got their problems, just like all of us. They’re still sick men in lots of ways. But at least there’s that: they are sick men now. No more rabbits, Mack. Maybe they can be well men someday. I can’t say.

I’m so fucking tired of pretending.” “Pretending what?” It’s nothing but a breathy whisper as he prowls toward me, matching each of my steps backward. His strong hands cup my face, piercing gaze locked on mine as he looms above me. My heart slams in my chest as his thumb sweeps across my lower lip, and his eyes dip, watching as my lips part on a jagged inhale, before flipping back up to mine. “I’m so fucking tired of pretending I’m not in love with you.

An old love of my uncle's. Her name was Nott." "Not what?" "Nott. Just Nott." Mack waited as long as he could before asking, "Not what?" "Nott. That was he name. Nott." "Is that a joke?" Mack asked. "Like one of those 'not' jokes? Like if I said, 'I like your dress...not.'" "What's the matter with my dress?" Xiao asked, a little irritated. Leaning forward, Jarrah asked, "Not what?" "Not a what, a who," Mack explained to Jarrah. "Nothing!" he answered Xiao's question. "Okay, then," Jarrah said. "Not who?" "Are we there yet?" Stefan asked. "I think Nott was Shen Long's girlfriend," Mack yelled back to Jarrah. The wind was fierce and cold now that Shen Long was picking up speed. "Then what's this about nothing?" Jarrah asked. "It's not about nothing," Mack said. "It's about Nott." There was a moment or two of silence. Then Jarrah said, "You know, I could push you right off this dragon's back." Mack thought that over for a second or two then said, "I'd prefer you not. Heh.

C’mon, Jennie. Dance with me.” Her grin is a slow explosion, lighting her whole face as all that apprehension fades away. “You’ll dance for me?” “I’ll do anything for you.

There is simply no easy way to hold infinite space in a finite brain.

Discipline. It means doing what you have to do when you need to do it, whether you want to or not.

The most important thing for me is the direct observation of nature in its light-filled existence.

Jennie drifts to sleep in my arms, and I know I already have my family right here.

For-fucking-ever, Ol. Lock me up and throw away the key. I’m yours, baby. Always have been, always will be. And I’ll romance the shit outta you when we get home.

Stop worrying about being enough for other people. Be enough for yourself

That’s okay. I just want to live long enough to ride the scooter shopping cart at Walmart.” Mack

What's celebrate?" Eddie asked. "That's when you can't get no dame," said Mack. "I thought it was a kind of a party," said Jones. A silence fell on the room.

I thought you were a believer, Ren,” Mack says. “I’m also a scientist,” I fire back, irritated with his mocking tone. “They’re not incompatible.” (It’s

Hey! When you're done macking with your newest whore, you might want to book a vacation for Mom.

The sun creeps along, as the sun is wont to do. The occasional insect wanders across Mack’s legs, as insects are wont to do. Mack does nothing, as Mack is wont to do.

Mack winked. “The sex scenes are also really fucking hot.” Gavin dropped the book. Mack and Wilson laughed and high-fived. “I loved that one,” Wilson said. “At least a BB Four.” “Do I want to know what that means?” Gavin shuddered. “It’s our rating system for how much sex is in it,” Wilson said. “But what does BB stand for?” The whole table spoke at once. “Book Boner.

It has always seemed strange to me,” said Doc. “The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second.” “Who wants to be good if he has to be hungry too?” said Richard Frost. “Oh, it isn’t a matter of hunger. It’s something quite different. The sale of souls to gain the whole world is completely voluntary and almost unanimous—but not quite. Everywhere in the world there are Mack and the boys….

Even when life hits you like a Mack truck that's come out of nowhere, there is still a chance that you will survive, and although the road to recover may be slow, long, and even permanent, this doesn't mean you can't enjoy the rest of your life and be happy again.

I don’t want. I don’t want to wait because I don’t want a life where you’re not in it. My world only spins so beautifully because of the way you’ve opened my heart and made me feel like myself again.

I bet when you hold hands with a girl that cool you wonder if it's possible you're going to levitate like that one of them monks I saw on a TV commercial once, which don't you wish that was real? - Mack

We all have that one person. It’s not necessarily someone we end up with. But it’s that person who, for whatever reason, gets under your skin and stays there. You can move on, but parts of them are always with you. Sometimes, if things never had a chance to develop, if feelings are still unresolved, that person becomes an even more powerful force in your life, even in absentia.

Their backs were to me, and the vampire hadn't seen me yet I loosened the coiled chain so a good three feet of it swung free. Who to attack first? They were both small and vicious. I remembered Mack's contemptuous dismissal and the fact that he never left me a tip. Mack first.

I’ve wanted to touch you all week.” I confessed. “Wanted to hold you all week. Wanted to climb into your big bed and hold you so you weren’t alone.” He was beautiful with his slow blinking eyes on me as he leaned into my hand. “God. Just put your fucking hands on me, Hennessy. I can’t stand being this far away from you any longer.” Collectively we sighed and wrapped our arms around each other. It was like coming home and finding my spot in his heart. “I’m going to keep you, Mack.

I prayed for you for so long,” he whispers into my skin. “I prayed to the stars and the moon. I prayed to every god the monster world has. I prayed my entire life, mate.

I have loved you across space and time,” he murmurs, moving to the back of my neck and kissing again. “I loved you before I even knew you.

This hurt is never going away. Ever. And neither is yours. But that doesn't mean life is over.

I guess that,when it's done and you're done and everything has happened,that's when it's time to get up and start making things happen for yourself.

I’m no one’s sunshine.” “Fuck, I love when you’re wrong.” My mouth covers hers, coaxing it open, and her tongue meets mine for a slow, sweeping kiss. “You’re my sunshine.

For once in my life, I just want to be loved. Loved for who I am, for what I have to give. I want someone to see everything I bring to the table and eagerly sit down with me.

I’m going to be really good at loving you, Ollie. I promise. Nobody will ever do it like I do.

Life, they showed me, could go on no matter how unpredictable, no matter how unfair.

When you’re young, it’s easy to convince yourself that you’re too much, that you should make yourself smaller to keep others happy.

Talent is never enough. With few exceptions the best players are the hardest workers. —MAGIC JOHNSON

Not to flex, but I'm better at making bad decisions than you.

Sarayu: “Mack, if anything matters than everything matters. Because you are important, everything you do is important. Every time you forgive, the universe changes; every time you reach out and touch a heart or a life, the world changes; with every kindness and service, seen or unseen, my purposes are accomplished and nothing will ever be the same again” (235).

I was only crying because I had just realized—knee-deep in Red (Taylor’s Version)—that Taylor Swift will, one day, stop making music, and I’ll no longer have a soundtrack to my life.

Mack, don't you see how filling roles is the opposite of relationship? We want male and female to be counterparts, face-to-face equals, each unique and different, distinctive in gender but complementary, and each empowered uniquely by Sarayu from whom all true power and authority originates.

Call me Mac," he said. Mackadocious is more like it. "For the next month, I will be your writing instructor..." Lip Macking Good. "It was Alfred, Lord Tennyson, who said, 'Words, like Nature, half reveal and half conceal the Soul within...'" Big Mac Attack. "Here, in the next five weeks, I hope you do more revealing than concealing..." Oh, I'll reveal more than that if you want me to, Mac Daddy.

This is why you don’t just stick bodies in the refrigerator before an open-casket funeral. Mack is telling me about a ninety-seven-year-old woman who looked sixty after her embalming. “We had to paint in wrinkles, or the family wouldn’t recognize her.

You welcome your children into the world knowing that if all goes the way you plan, you won’t get to see the end of their story. It seems a sad notion until you realize that’s what gives you hope for the future.

For those who think they’re better off alone, that they’re not worthy of the love they crave, because they’ve dealt with the pain of people leaving. The power to let them win or rise above it with your head held high is yours and yours alone. The only person who needs to think you’re worth it is you.

When 'Dirty Mack' salts your flow, get beyond feelings of hurt, anger, bitterness, and especially vengeance. Be glad, and take refuge in knowing light has been cast on the shadow of hatred, envy or jealousy that has mocked your shine. And press forward with your purpose - allowing time and space to clear the way for karmic justice on your behalf.

I stole looks. First was her hair, long and loopy and pulled back. Second, she has the prettiest face, oopen-like and up-looking. Third time I looked she was studying that satellite and I saw her eyes, deep brown, almost black. She has these little scars on her chin. I like that. When a lady isn't perfect, she's a lot more perfect, I believe. - Mack

My gran once told me that we become stars when we die. That the people we love and lose are set free in the sky, where no one can dull their light.

I lost all those years, only to end up in the same place, wanting you and wishing I hadn't ever let you go.

Don’t look where you don’t want to go.

Starship command is like comedy, Number One. Timing is everything.

have faith that healing is a process. I have faith that God cares about me. I have faith in my own power.

Because with him, I’m safe. Safe to be myself, safe to feel, safe to want, safe to be. If this is love, I’m in it. If this is love, I never want to let go.

You’re a little lost, a little off track, but you keep going, searching for that light, and when you find it, it shines so bright, guiding you home.

It’s not that it can’t be true, but that if it is, nothing makes sense, and we might as well give up on trying to understand the universe at all.

I’m so used to giving up only pieces of myself, I don’t even know how to be whole with someone anymore.

Every attempt to bend some part of the world to our will creates disorder somewhere else, often in the form of heat.

You have the responsibility to shape your life. You are the person who pushes yourself forward or holds yourself back. The power to succeed or fail is yours alone.

Drinkin’ two-fisted are ya?” “It’s all right, love—I’m a writer.

It’s okay to be scared, Adam,

Then, our friends come around us, winding arms and tender squeezes. And this? This feels like family.

I know I flip your world upside down. You fucking demolish mine. Please, let me in. Let me see you. Let me have you. All of you.

I see the fire in your eyes and all I wanna do is fuel it. Light me up, set my soul on fire. I’m yours.

We’ve all been in positions where we felt out of place or not accepted for whatever reason. For me, that’s been my life. I’ve always been that person that stood out. And what makes you an outcast is what makes you unique, and you should harness that. Being a black sheep gives you creative license to do sh*t differently.

Jesus now spoke again. "Mack, I don't want to be first among a list of values; I want to be at the center of everything. When I live in you, then together we can live through everything that happens to you. Rather than the top of a pyramid, I want to be the center of a mobile, where everything in your life - your friends, family, occupation, thoughts, activities - is connected to me but moves with the wind, in and out and back and forth, in an incredible dance of being.

Ollie Girl, I’ve made a lot of mistakes, lived my life a little too carelessly, in ways that people didn’t approve of. But I wouldn’t change a thing. Because I was waiting for you. Waiting for a love that would walk into my life and blow my whole world up. I want to celebrate every Valentine’s Day & birthday with you. Love, Carter

All I’m doing when I’m away from you is counting down the minutes until we can be together again. There is no other option for me than a life with you. I know it’s soon, but I don’t need time to tell me what I already know, that a forever with you can’t come soon enough. Be my forever. Officially, because forever is all you’ve ever been to me. So… marry me, Ollie girl. Say yes.

Don’t cry, beautiful.” “I’m so sorry.” She gasps, swiping at her cheeks, turning her face away. “Hey.” Hooking a finger under her chin, I force her gaze to mine. “Your tears are not a weakness, so stop trying to hide them. Don’t be sorry for showing me how you feel. Being vulnerable with each other is how we learn to be the best versions of ourselves as partners. When you show me the type of love you need, I learn how to give it to you.

This body isn’t perfect, but it’s strong. Physically, mentally, in everything I’ve worked so hard to overcome. This body isn’t perfect, but for all it’s done and everything it’s given me, it’s beautiful.

You’re not playing shy right now, are you? Not Carter Beckett. Not possible.” He grins down at me as his arms pull me in. “I wanted you to feel like you were home.” “I’ve always felt like I’m home with you, Carter. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we have.

Do you know how gemologists tell a fake emerald from a real one? The fakes are perfect. Real emeralds have flaws. None of us is perfect.

Life throws you curveballs. You have to learn how to knock ’em out of the park’.

Don’t tell me,” Burnham cut in. “It’s fascinating.” Spock said nothing in response, but he could not help but appear mildly put out.

I'm keeping my socks on until I know what you're going to do.

Competitive golf is played mainly on a five-and-a-half-inch course: the space between your ears. —BOBBY JONES

and all I have to remark is, damn the pies!

for what is religion if not a kind of madness, and what is madness without a touch of religion?

Move along, pal. I haven't upgraded to misery yet.

Every moment is a memory waiting to happen.

Doc turned in the seat and looked back. The disappearing sun shone on his laughing face, his gay and eager face. With his left hand he held the bucking steering wheel. Cannery Row looked after the ancient car. It made the first turn and was gone from sight behind a warehouse just as the sun was gone. Fauna said, 'I wonder if I'd be safe to put up her gold star tonight. What the hell's the matter with you, Mack?' Mack said, 'Vice is a monster so frightful of mien, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.' He put his arm around Hazel's shoulders. 'I think you'd of made a hell of a president,' he said.

You wanna fight, get your self-doubt out, that’s fine. But you’re gonna do it with me, at my house, together.” His searing stare swings my way. “I refuse to let you push me away again.

Twenty-five minutes ago, I was blissfully invisible. No laughing. No evil grins. No drama. And now? It couldn’t be more dramatic. I’ve got a stepsister masquerading as Cinderella, the chauvinistic villagers think I’m the ugly stepsister, and the boy coming to my side is more likely to snag a prince than I am.

Sometimes we want to heal right now and be done with it, but healing is a journey, a process. And we have to have faith in ourselves that we can endure, or we’ll never reach our destination. Thankfully, we all have the power in us to persevere. To learn. To heal.

Come with me, Mack,” I said. “Back to my place.” I tried to pull my hand back. Our fingers were intertwined like those bloody hospital robes. I didn’t mind, even when he scared me a little. The blood that kept us alive was trapped just under our skin, racing through veins. All those cells inside and out were fighting for a way to move closer together, beyond the trap of skin, dependent on breath.

She was the one. Our time together seemed to flash before my eyes, all of our many conversations, ranging from our deepest thoughts and hang-ups to the strange and funny. It was her. It had always been her.

To everyone who has ever felt ready to fold themselves in half to fit somebody else’s idea of who they should be… Don’t dull your shine for anyone. The right people will want to bask in your sunshine, not steal it. Until then, soak it all in. You, exactly as you are, are enough.

My mom always told me that these things don’t come easily, that you have to work for the love and the life you want. The hard parts are challenging, but we get through them, and everything else with you feels natural, and I… I want to work with you. I want to build a life we love.

You made me practice patience, and in doing so I learned to trust you, to trust myself a little more. Your walls were there for a reason, and you didn’t let me push you into tearing them down on my own schedule.

Not unlike most people. When I dwell with you, I do so in the present—I live in the present. Not the past, although much can be remembered and learned by looking back, but only for a visit, not an extended stay. And for sure, I do not dwell in the future you visualize or imagine. Mack, do you realize that your imagination of the future, which is almost always dictated by fear of some kind, rarely, if ever, pictures me there with you?

You can do this. You deserve this. You’ve earned it. If you want it, all you have to do is reach out and take it. I’m proud of you, Jennie, and no matter what, you’ll always be my best friend, and I’ll always be your safe place to land.

Always take time to cherish every single moment you get, and always take a second to remind yourself how special that moment truly is and just how lucky you are to have it... remember that there is someone somewhere wishing it was their moment.

I turned my head and saw the big lamps, and I knew it was Violet Atwater. When I turned back around Mack had slowed because of the fog. Through the mist I couldn’t see Greyson Manor any longer. Violet almost caught up to us in her big Packard and then she was enveloped in the fog as well. It was the change in the air I noticed first. Fresh and clean, with something sweet like honeysuckle or jasmine drifting on the evening breeze. Mack smelled it too, because he sniffed and glanced over at me.

If you asked why the post had not come, or why the boat did not sail for England, or why your coffee was cold, or why your boots were not cleaned, or why your window was shut, or why the canary didn't sing,-you would always be sure to be told, "c'est la guerre!

Everett and his mom broke up with me,thank you very much." "You shouldn't have made out with him in his mother's scrapbooking room," Liz said sagely. "We're seventeen,"I snapped, "and Everett and I had been dating for two months when that happened.What were we supposed to do,eat dinner with his family and keep our hands on the table where everyone could see them?I mean, you and Davis are Mr. and Mrs. Polite Reserve, and even you were macking in the hot tub an hour ago." I picked up a pink fuzzy pillow that had fallen from he bed and threw it at Liz. "You were?" Chloe gushed. "You what? Hello,I need the details of Liz and Davis." "Hayden!" Liz squealed, ducking behind Chloe. "I'm not saying you shouldn't have made out with Everett.I'm saying you shouldn't have done it in his mother's scrapbooking room.Location, location,location.You might have disorganized her supplies.Some people are very particular about their chipboard getting mixed up with their cardstock." I closed my eyes,inhaled through my nose,and felt my lungs fill with air. My blood spread the life-giving oxygen throughout my body. "Watch out,"Chloe whispered to Liz. "She's doing yoga." My eyes snapped open.So much for controlling my temper. "Why the hell didn't you tell me Nick's mother left before I went into the sauna with him?" I hollered at Chloe. "We didn't know he was here!" Liz came to Chloe's defense. "And if we'd warned you about him before he got here," Chloe explained, "You would have known he was coming.We didn't want you to leave.The two of you are surprisingly hard to throw together,let me tell you." "I'm not buying it," I informed Chloe. "You were distracted.You had your mind on taking inventory." Liz giggled,turned red, and fell back to the pillows. "Taking inventory requires enormous concentration!" Chloe said with a straight face,but she was blushing,too.

Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite friend who hates my other friend but wants to bone her anyway and screw up her life because he’s a twisted, disturbed asshole.” He rolled his eyes as he turned to see Michelle stepping into line behind him as he waited for his coffee. “Tell me how you really feel, Shell.” She studied him with a smirk firmly planted on her face for a moment. “Okay. You need to end this thing with her before I have to scoop her lifeless, emotional soul off the highway after you’ve run it down with your Mack truck-sized anger issues.

Mack and the boys, too, spinning in their orbits. They are the Virtues, the Graces, the Beauties of the hurried mangled craziness of Monterey and the cosmic Monterey where men in fear and hunger destroy their stomachs in the fight to secure certain food, where men hungering for love destroy everthing lovable about them. Mack and the boys are the Beauties, the Virtues, the Graces. In a world ruled by tigers with ulcers, rutted by strictured bulls, scavenged by blind jackals, Mack and the boys dine delicately with the tigers, fondle the frantic heifers, and wrap up the crumbs to feed the sea gulls of Cannery Row. What can it profit a man to gain the whole world and come to his property with a gastric ulcer, a blown prostate, and bifocals? Mack and the boys avoid the trap, walk around the poison, step over the noose while a generation of trapped, poisoned, and trussed-up men scream at them and call them no-goods, come-to-bad-ends, blots-on-the-town, thieves, rascals, bums. Our father who art in nature, who has given the gift of survival to the coyote, the common brown rat, the English sparrow, the house fly and the moth, must have a great and overwhelming love for no-goods and blots-on-the-town and bums, and Mack and the boys. Virtues and graces and laziness and zest. Our Father who art in nature.

My heart chooses you because you’re feisty and fierce. You’re sarcastic and you know how to clap back at me, and I love those bits of confidence. But I love when you show me your sensitive side, too, and I love that you think you hide it so well but actually wear it on your sleeve.

Too many people, too many times, have come between us. Not again.” This man, this beautiful, unattainable man is mine. And he loves me like a Mack truck—the huge ones that just keep coming and don’t stop for anything in their path. Being the object of such singular focus can be overwhelming, but it’s also the best feeling in the world. “Are you saying you want this for good?” I ask, more confident than I’ve ever been. “For good?” He frowns and gives a quick shake of his head. “For good is too sanitized. I want your dirt and your pain and your darkness. Your weakness and your flaws.” He sprinkles kisses over my cheeks and nose, leaving adoration everywhere he touches me. “I don’t want you for good, Banner,” he says. “I want you forever.” I gasp at hearing the future in his words, of the picture he’s painting. “I love you,” he tells me again. “I didn’t even think I was capable of saying that, much less feeling it, but I feel it for you.

You may have heard that "we are made of stardust" (or "star stuff" if you're Sagan), and this is absolutely true if we measure by mass. All the heavier elements in your body—oxygen, carbon, nitrogen, calcium, etc.—were produced later, either in the centers of stars or in stellar explosions. But hydrogen, while the lightest, is also the most abundant element in your body by number. So, yes, you hold within you the dust of ancient generations of stars. But you are also, to a very large fraction, built out of by-products of the actual Big Bang. Carl Sagan's larger statement still stands, and to an even larger degree: "We are a way for the cosmos to know itself.

When a man and woman have sexual relations, who gets the most out of the deal? The man, or the woman? Since we live in a society full of tricks, the man thinks he gets more out of the encounter. But what do men really get out of it? The reality is that women have the potential to get more out of it than the man, especially if the man's seeds have accumulated a certain amount of value.

And from time to time, the fluctuation doesn’t produce a Big Bang, it just re-creates last Tuesday—specifically, that moment when you stubbed your toe on the kitchen table and spilled an entire cup of coffee on the floor. That moment. And every other moment of your life. And everyone else’s.

I never savoured life for what it was: I only wanted to get to the next stage of it. I wish now I'd taken a little more time, but it is too late for such regrets. I was like the child in the cinema whose chief anticipation lies not in the film but in wondering what he will do after it is over; I was the reader who hurries through a 500-page novel not to see what will happen but simply to get to the end.

I turned onto my side, pulling the blanket up over my shoulder and closing my eyes. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been lying there when I felt a hand on my hip. I opened my eyes and saw Mack crouched next to me, balanced on the balls of his feet. Shirtless. My breath caught. He put a finger to his lips. My heart started to pound. Was this real or a dream? Without wanting to know for sure, I put my hand in his and rose from the couch. He led me through the dining room and into his bedroom, closing the door soundlessly behind me. “Mack. What are you doing?” I whispered. Instead of answering, he pushed me back against the door and kissed me hard and deep, his arms caging me on either side. “I changed my mind.” “Why?” “Because I’ve been lying here for fucking hours and I can’t stop thinking about how much I want you.” His voice was quiet but gravelly, more growl than whisper. “But you said—” “I know what I said. But I’ve decided I’d rather be reckless than responsible tonight. If you’re in, I’m in.” I put my hands on his chest and pushed him back. “I’m in.

You had a baby,” Marco adds. “That doesn’t make you worth any less.” “I’m not as thin as I used to be. And my scar—” “Your scar is a badass badge of honor for having a life you created carved right out of you. And your stretch marks are tiger stripes, Rosie. You are strong. You are fierce. You are perfect, just the way you are.” Marco sweeps my bangs aside. “Don’t doubt that the right person won’t see that, because he will.

I fell in love with you on this balcony. I fell in love with the way you slept peacefully next to the fire. I fell in love with the way you gazed with wonder at the sky, the millions of stars. I fell in love with the way you opened up to me, let me see you and let me show you me too. I fell in love with the way we laid here, your body wrapped in mine, all the times we’ve made love here, and when I asked you to make this house yours. I fell in love with you over and over again, and I keep doing it every single day, right here on this balcony.

Another way to spot chickenheads is by checking out their navels. Many chickenheads had mothers who didn’t know how to properly remove their umbilical cords when they were babies. (You can’t use cocoa butter to help remove the umbilical cord.) This causes their navels to protrude or become slightly disfigured as they grow up. Beware. And

Garrett’s my solid and my steady. He’s the constant in my life, the smile always waiting for me, the friendship that never wanes, the connection that grows stronger each day. He’s the warm arms that hug me, the fingers that drift down my back, the quiet voice that eases my worries at the end of the day and promises to be my safe place to land.

I wore only black socks, because I had heard that white ones were the classic sign of the American tourist. Black ones though,- those'll fool 'em. I supposed I hoped the European locals' conversation would go something like this: PIERRE: Ha! Look at that tourist with his camera and guidebook! JACQUES: Wait, but observe his socks! They are...black! PIERRE: Zut alors! You are correct! He is one of us! What a fool I am! Let us go speak to him in English and invite him to lunch!

They’ve been lying from the start. From the first time we read the words ‘once upon a time,’ we’re fed the idea that these girls—these gorgeous, demure, singing-with-the-wildlife girls—get a happy ending. And I get it. Poor thing had to do some chores around the house, fine. But the idea that she needs a magic old lady to come down and skim off the dirt so the prince will see her beauty? That’s ridiculous. Maybe she should have been working on her lockpicking skills instead of serenading squirrels. She could have busted out, hitched a ride to the castle, and impressed the prince with her safe-cracking prowess. Sorry, magic-fairy lady. She didn’t need your help.

The catch is that for most people the New Testament is taken as proof for the conventional picture of Christian origins, and the conventional picture is taken as proof for the way in which the New Testament was written. . . . For this reason the New Testament is commonly viewed and treated as a charter document that came into being much like the Constitution of the United States. According to this view, the authors of the New Testament were all present at the historic beginnings of the new religion and collectively wrote their gospels and letters for the purpose of founding the Christian church that Jesus came to inaugurate. Unfortunately for this view, that is not the way it happened.

In the meantime, we'll continue on, making new pathc through the woods to see what we might find hiding there. Someday, deep in the unknown wilderness of the distant future, the Sun will expand, the Earth will die, and the cosmos itself will come to an end. In the meantime, we have the entire universe to explore, pushing our creativity to its limits to find new ways of knowing our cosmic home. We can learn and create extraordinary things, and we can share them with each other. And as long as we are thinking creatures, we will never stop asking: "What comes next?

Standing in the corner, leaning aginst the wall, is a fifth man. If Grange is a Hummer, this guy's an 18-wheel Mack truck, thinks Roddy. Parked, with its engine idling. He reminds Roddy of Ivan Drago from that Rocky movie. The guy must stand six five and tip the scales at 270. Pure, rock-hard muscle. His crew-cut blond hair is slickly gelled; his face--especially those cheekbones and that lantern jaw--could be carved from granite. He, no doubt, spends counteless hours at some muscle emporium. Pure muscle, but probably clumsy; he would go down fast if Roddy drove a flurry of punches into his gut and face. A gold earring pierces the guy's left earlobe. The drape of the jacket on his Schwarzenegger shoulders shows a bulge on the left side. The guy's packing some serious hardware. Mack Truck stares blankly and stands rock-still, hands clasped in front of his gargantuan body.

The turkeys were chunky With smiley, beaked faces, And they greeted the children With downy embraces. So out through the barnyard They ran and they flew, And they gobbled and giggled As friends sometimes do. Then somebody spotted An ax by the door, And she asked Farmer Nuggett What it was for. With a blink of his eye And a twist of his head, The old farmer told A grim tale of dread: “Tonight,” said Mack Nuggett, “These feathery beasts Will be chopped up and roasted For Thanksgiving feasts.” The children stood still As tears filled their eyes, Then they clamored aloud In a chorus of cries. “Oh dear,” cried Mack Nuggett, “Now what shall I do?” So he dashed to the well, And the teacher went, too. And they fetched some water Fresh from the ground, In hopes that a swig Might calm everyone down. And when they returned To quiet the matter, The children were calmer (And mysteriously fatter!).

Do you have a weekly prayer meeting in your church? Your answer reflects how spiritual you are and how much you are depending on God or on human ability and organization. The first thing the early church did was pray. It’s the last thing the modern church does today. The early church saw mighty things in answer to prayer. We see little today because of the neglect of prayer. Prayer was their first choice. Today it’s our last resort. Before the early church did anything else, they prayed. We do everything else but pray. It was their first priority. It’s our last priority. The New Testament saints had divine enduement without any equipment. Today we have the equipment but not the enduement. If we are weak in prayer, then we are weak everywhere.

Power in the hands of independent humans, be they men or women, does corrupt. Mack, don’t you see how filling roles is the opposite of relationship? We want male and female to be counterparts, face-to-face equals, each unique and different, distinctive in gender but complementary, and each empowered uniquely by Sarayu, from whom all true power and authority originate. Remember, I am not about performance and fitting into man-made structures; I am about being. As you grow in relationship with me, what you do will simply reflect who you really are.” “But you came in the form of a man. Doesn’t that say something?” “Yes, but not what many have assumed. I came as a man to complete a wonderful picture in how we made you. From the first day we hid the woman within the man, so that at the right time we could remove her from within him. We didn’t create man to live alone; she was purposed from the beginning. By taking her out of him, he birthed her in a sense. We created a circle of relationship, like our own, but for humans. She, out of him, and now all the males, including me, birthed through her, and all originating, or birthed, from God.

In 1761, we moved to the town of Marlow, where we remained until we had four children. When we moved there it was no other than a desolate and dreary wilderness. Only four families resided within forty miles. Here I was thrown into a situation to appreciate more fully the talents and virtues of my excellent wife; for, as our children were deprived of schools, she assumed the charge of their education, and performed the duties of an instructress as none, save a mother, is capable of. Precepts accompanied with examples such as hers, were calculated to make impressions on the minds of the young, never to be forgotten.

It also means that cosmology doesn’t really have a well-defined concept of “now.” Or rather, the “now” you experience is highly specific to you, to where you are and to what you are doing. What does it mean to say “that supernova is going off now” if we see the light of it now, and we can watch the star explode now, but that light has been traveling for millions of years? The thing we’re watching is essentially fully in the past, but the “now” for that exploded star is unobservable to us, and we won’t receive any knowledge of it for millions of years, which makes it, to us, not “now,” but the future. When we think of the universe as existing in spacetime—a kind of all-encompassing universal grid in which space is three axes and time is a fourth—we can just think of the past and the future as distant points on the same fabric, stretching across the cosmos from its infancy to its end. To someone sitting at a different point on this fabric, an event that is part of the future to us might be the distant past to them. And the light (or any information) from an event that we won’t see for millennia is already streaming across spacetime toward us “now.” Is that event in the future, or the past, or, perhaps, both? It all depends on perspective.

We know it had a beginning. About 13.8 billion years ago, the universe went from a state of unimaginable density, to an all-encompassing cosmic fireball, to a cooling, humming fluid of matter and energy, which laid down the seeds for the stars and galaxies we see around us today. Planets formed, galaxies collided, light filled the cosmos. A rocky planet orbiting an ordinary star near the edge of a spiral galaxy developed life, computers, political science, and spindly bipedal mammals who read physics books for fun. But what’s next? What happens at the end of the story? The death of a planet, or even a star, might in principle be survivable. In billions of years, humanity could still conceivably exist, in some perhaps unrecognizable form, venturing out to distant reaches of space, finding new homes and building new civilizations. The death of the universe, though, is final. What does it mean for us, for everything, if it will all eventually come to an end?

The pattern of your breathing affects the pattern of your performance. When you are under stress, deep breathing helps bring your mind and body back into the present.Over the years I have handed out thousands of little stickers to athletes that read ‘Breathe and Focus.’ A baseball player will place the bright orange circle on the shoulder of his uniform or underneath the bill of his cap, or on the barrel of his bat. A hockey player might affix it to his stick. Firefighters I have worked with place the stickers on their self-contained breathing apparatus. The stickers serve as a reminder. Whenever they feel themselves growing anxious, breathe in energy. Breathe out negativity. Breathe in relaxation. Breathe out stress.

Who calls the Prince of the Mud?' … The snapping turtle snapped. Its head shot out to maximum extension—Eliot wouldn’t have believed anything that big could move that fast. It was like a Mack truck coming straight at them. As it bit it turned its head on one side, to take them both in one movement. Eliot reacted fast. His reaction was to crouch down and cover his face with his arms. From the relative safety of this position he felt the day grow colder around them, and he heard a crackle, which at first he took for the pier splintering in the turtle’s jaws. But the end didn’t come. 'You DARE?' Janet said. Her voice was loud now—it made the boards vibrate sympathetically under his feet. He looked up at her. She’d gone airborne, floating two feet above the pier, and her clothes were rimmed with frost. She radiated cold; mist sheeted off her skin as it would off dry ice. Her arms were spread wide, and she had an axe in each hand. They were those twin staves she wore on her back, each one now topped with an axe-head of clear ice. The turtle was trapped in mid-lunge. She’d stopped it cold; the swamp was frozen solid around it. Janet had called down winter, and the water of the Northern Marsh was solid ice as far as he could see, cracked and buckled up in waves. The turtle was stuck fast in it. It struggled, its head banging back and forth impotently. 'Jesus,' Eliot said. He stood up out of his defensive crouch. 'Nice one.' 'You DARE?' Janet said again, all imperious power. 'Marvel that you live, Prince of Shit!

Whether or not we subscribe to any particular religion or philosophy, it would be hard to deny that knowing our cosmic destiny must have some impact on how we think about our existence, or even how we live our lives. If we want to know whether what we do here ultimately matters, the first thing we ask is: how will it come out in the end? If we find the answer to that question, it leads immediately to the next: what does this mean for us now? Do we still have to take the trash out next Tuesday if the universe is going to die someday? I’ve done my own scouring of theological and philosophical texts, and while I learned many fascinating things from my studies, unfortunately the meaning of existence wasn’t one of them. I may just not have been cut out for it. The questions and answers that have always drawn me in most strongly are the ones that can be answered with scientific observation, mathematics, and physical evidence. As appealing as it sometimes seemed to have the whole story and meaning of life written down for me once and for all in a book, I knew I would only ever really be able to accept the kind of truth I could rederive mathematically.