Mj Quotes

Maturity is when your world opens up and you realize that you are not the center of it.

God did not create man. Man created god. He did this to help him deal with death, the unknown, and all the other bo**ocks that he couldn't quite get his head around.

A physical attraction is often desired above many things but you'll discover it to be short lived. Find yourself someone that gets under your skin, seduces the dusty corners of your heart, and provides you with a mental connection. That is when you'll know true intimacy.

There’s a profound difference between interest and commitment. Interest reads a book; commitment applies the book 50 times.

The owl,” he was saying, “is one of the most curious creatures. A bird that stays awake when the rest of the world sleeps. They can see in the dark. I find that so interesting, to be mired in reality when the rest of the world is dreaming. What does he see and what does he know that the rest of the world is missing?

Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now. There are only so many tomorrows. ~ Michael Landon

There is no glory in honesty if it is destructive. And no shame in dishonesty if its goal is to offer grace.

Trust is a fragile thing—hard to earn, easy to lose.

Time isn’t a commodity, something you pass around like a cake. Time is the substance of life. When anyone asks you to give your time, they’re really asking for a chunk of your life. ~ Antoinette Bosco

Waking up is the strongest argument for full-blown misanthropy.

Why would you ever choose to die?’ ‘Because a life with no end loses meaning. Death defines life. One day, I hope to find a good reason to die.

We smile but I want more. I want her to hug me.

The long distance hiker, a breed set apart, From the likes of the usual pack. He’ll shoulder his gear, be hittin’ the trail; Long gone, long ‘fore he’ll be back.

Love is a gamble and sometimes it hurts, but whether you win or lose being in love is a beautiful thing.

Many people want to change their life, but they are not will to change their choices, and ultimately this changes nothing.

Would you change who you were to be with the one person you were meant to love?

He doesn’t tell me how beautiful I am; he shows me.

I could barely manage myself sometimes, let alone some miniature kleinman person whose sole method of communication was crying. How would I know what she wanted? How would I keep her happy?

Stop thinking about business in terms of your selfish desires, whether it’s money, dreams or “do what you love.” Instead, chase needs, problems, pain points, service deficiencies, and emotions.

I’m a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it. ~ Thomas Jefferson

There are countless moments in the average life when you have to decide whether to open yourself up or bury yourself deep. In love, at work, among your family, with friends, there are moments when you have to decide whether you are ready to reveal your true self.

The problem is not people being educated. The problem is that they are educated just enough to believe what they've been taught, but not educated enough to question what they've been taught. ~ Author Unknown

Yes, I call my scooter Jessie, and I don't think that's weird in the slightest." (...) "Doesn't your truck have a name ?" she asked Blake with mock surprise. "Sure. Toyota...

Instead of digging for gold, sell shovels. Instead of taking a class, offer a class. Instead of borrowing money, lend it. Instead of taking a job, hire for jobs. Instead of taking a mortgage, hold a mortgage. Break free from consumption, switch sides, and reorient to the world as producer.

Her name is Chastity, middle name Belt and we're moving to a deserted Island with its own nuclear missiles.

‎"As Oedipus learned, the more you run away from what is predetermined the more you run toward it.

Your choices are made in a moment, and yet their consequences transcend a lifetime.

All events of wealth are precluded by process, a backstory of trial, risk, hard work, and sacrifice. If you try to skip process, you’ll never experience events.

Is there a secret? Yes. Anaïs Nin and Pauline Réage and Anne Rampling and Erica Jong all knew it. E. L. James knows it. It is the secret behind all of our writing. And our reading. Arousal starts in the mind. And grows in the mind. The brain is the most erogenous zone in a woman’s body. That is our secret. And it is what we share.

Value is an odd thing, subject to whim.  What one might find value in, another might not; what has value today might not have value tomorrow, depending on the wants and needs of the evaluating individual.

Just a thought. What sets us above all other life on this planet is our ability to read. What we read can determine our relationship with all other life on this planet.

The flaw in being civilized is that it permit’s the uncivilized among us to perpetrate horrific crimes against us in the name of freedom and equality. Foreword 'RHG

I am thinking that I love you more than Ren and Stimpy, playing Sega on a rainy Saturday morning,

At least she hadn’t bothered to put any mascara on this morning; otherwise, she would certainly have serious panda eyes and look even more frightful.

The secret, which is not so secret after all, is that the people who we love live on in our hearts, in the beat of our blood.

We loved deeper than we fucked and let’s be honest, we fucked pretty deep.

People underestimate just how destructive the truth can be if revealed at the wrong time.

Amy would never shoot anyone, least of all Sam. She’d never even held a gun before. This wasn’t America.

Why do I covet metafiction so much? Why do I nurture a style that David Foster Wallace purportedly exploded in the late 1980s, that is derided by most literary theorists as passé, that people tend to agree serves no worldly, moral purpose other than to draw attention to the writer’s own navel? Because, dammit, metafiction is relevant to today.

Perfume is magic. It’s mystery. We recreate the smell of a flower. Of wood. Of grass. We capture the essence of life. Liquefy it. We store memories. We make dreams,” he told her once. “What we do is a wonder, an art, and we have a responsibility to do it well.

Falling in love is like giving another person a loaded gun pointed right at your heart and trusting them to not shoot you.

I laugh with them because it is one of the worst things to be in a room full of people and not laughting when everybody else is.

Needing someone doesn't make you weak, it makes you feel. And feeling is how you know you're alive. -Jack Reacher

It takes a lot more energy to bury pain than it does to confront it.

Circumstances shouldn't always set your happiness, sometimes you have to look within your heart. Love Conquers All.

I awoke to the epiphany that I was the driver of my life and my problems were the consequences of my choices.

My brother said that at Eton, students were told caning builds character. I suppose girls are caned less because we aren't thought to have much character." "Which is the sort of thing males say when they don't know any women.

I wrote this [Most Kings] before MJ died, and his death only proves my point: When he was alive, the King of Pop, people were tireless in taking him down, accepting as truth every accusation people made against him, assuming the worst until they drove him away. When he died, suddenly he was beloved again - people realized that the charges against him might really have been bogus, and that the skin lightening was really caused by a disease, and that his weirdness was part of his artistry. But when he was alive and on top, they couldn't wait to bring him down.

We are not taught to be thinkers, but reflectors of our culture. Let’s teach our children to be thinkers. ~ Jacque Fresco, Futurist

Worry is throwing good shillings at trouble that hasn't happened yet.

NR, Master of the backhanded compliment/putdown strikes again!

No, the sadness will soften, its edges will become less rough. In time missing him will be the way you love him.

Nothing this good, nothing this intense can ever last. Even the brightest stars burn out.

I would rather give a blowjob to Sasquatch and choke on a million pubic hairs,

She was resilient A brave soldier when life tested her It didn't matter that she did strange things like stand tall under the rain letting the drops kiss her skin thinking the storm was romantic It was hard to quiet her not that you would want to when she spoke, it was captivating Her heart was like a candle warm and delicate just what you needed during darkness Sometimes, she'd go off and explore the world test her limits laugh too much cry when humans were cruel It wasn't hard to see why people envied her You'd come to realize she was a lion and she could not be tamed.

All life is bound to a simple truth... that time goes on, that in each person's life begins a tale, a tale that will either end in memory or in legend.

Alis volat propriss. It's Latin, it means: 'She flies with her own wings'.

I'm not quite sure which scout troop Heath belonged to, but it certainly wasn't the "I will totally honor my previous promise of no hanky-panky in the shower" troop.

I am sure I have been cursed with the Elsa of vaginas. I may thaw out a bit, get worked up, but when it came right down to it. I was—frozen.

If millions seek you, you will be paid millions.

By working faithfully 8 hours a day, you may eventually get to be the boss and work 12 hours a day. ~ Robert Frost

If you have to think about “affordability,” you can’t afford it because affordability carries conditions and consequences.

The owner of an idea is not he who imagines it, but he who executes it.

People whose dancing have brought joy to our hearts are born once in a century. We had MJ.

Her heart was a little bruised up His had not yet learned to forget When they hugged, there were fragile parts.” -MJ ABRAHAM

I’m more a giver.” “I see.” “I can give to you right now before I leave --” “No.” She blushes. “You sure?” “I am.” “Then tonight, when I come pick you up, and take you to my hotel I’m going to give it to you. All. Night. Long.

Readers often tell me after they've read the books, they find it difficult to sum up the plot in a simple way. My response is, "It's a story about the love a father shares for his daughter. All the rest is just filler." - MJ Mancini, on his best-selling trilogy, "Revelation".

I want to send out my heartfelt thanks to everyone who has purchased Break in Two, and especially to those of you who took the time to review it. Your thoughtfulness and kind words have made the past two weeks most incredible. This whole writing thing was an experiment to see if I could do it. You have inspired me to continue on! I had no idea this would be such an incredibly gratify experience. Thank you to each and everyone one of you. All the best to you and yours this holiday season! MJ

The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out; the brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. The brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They are there to stop the other people!

It's the adventures you don't have that you end up regretting.

He was so full of life and confidence part of me wanted to slap him. But another part wanted to let him show me how to feel like that. That part made me want to slap myself.

If it’s a girl?” “Her name is Chastity, middle name Belt and we’re moving to a deserted Island with its own nuclear missiles.

You are the epitome of perfect. I just want to make sure that by the end of this weekend you feel I am worth taking a chance on.

We need to find you a man. You're conjuring Cinderfellas.

​His tongue, so soft and hot, like a chunk of microwaved fish, sloshing around inside her mouth.

When a well-packaged web of lies has been sold gradually to the masses over generations, the truth will seem utterly preposterous and its speaker a raving lunatic.

As Thomas Edison famously said, “Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.

The ideal tyranny is that which is ignorantly self-administered by its victims. The most perfect slaves are, therefore, those which blissfully and unawaredly enslave themselves. ~ Dresden James, Author

The ties that bind a parent to a child can never be broken; however awful their relationship might be, those ties just are.

...if you want to talk to God, it's best to do it where you don't have to shout to have yourself heard.

Open your eyes.  Look at me.  I need you to see what you do to me.

I wasn‘t talking to Simon. Talking might lead to something foolish like wanting to kiss him again. Or punch him. One of the two.

I’ll fuck you hard, make you scream my name in languages you didn’t even know existed.

I pulled over and he held my hands in his and kissed them. “We need to switch places.

You got pretty popular for a while there.' 'For about forty-eight hours,' I said. 'Just long enough to figure out that I don't want to be popular.

My doctor’s preferred method of attack was prescription drugs. I refused because I wanted to fix problems, not mask symptoms.

Men were supposed to be dissociative about sex. Able to turn off their emotions and think with their dick. But Mark had never been like that.

Those who are able to see beyond the shadows and lies of their culture will never be understood, let alone believed, by the masses. ~ Plato, Philosopher

It is amazing what hate can do.

For “do what you love” to work, you need two things: 1) Your love must solve a need and 2) You must be exceptional at it.

A market is never saturated with a good product ,but it is very quickly saturated with a bad one. ~ Henry Ford

She was the kind of elegance That would never tarnish. A mixture of lace and mesh, Like a classic heirloom that begged to be worn. She was sharp intellect and quick wit. The type of woman that spoke her mind, Even if it shook. (Or even if no one was listening.) She was beautiful. But not someone you’d see in magazines, Her hips were too wide, her hair a mess of wispy tendrils, (Rather, she was actually very ordinary.) My, was she stubborn! She’d drive you mad! (Sometimes, you’d probably call her crazy.) But mostly, her laughter was a joyful moments. Like a warm towel fresh from the dryer, Or finding a twenty-dollar bill in your winter coat. And that was the true revelation. That magic does exist, It ran through her like a wild, fiery current.

An author's dream does not necessarily come instantly. Rather, it is cultivated and nurtured, every epiphany and idea are like rain drops that bring life to the story being written.

Chris Hedges said that Michael Jackson's memorial service was a variety show with a coffin, that MJ transformed himself through surgery and perhaps female hormones from a brown-skinned African American male to a chalk-faced androgynous ghoul with no clear sexual identity.

Do you always curse in Danish?” he asked. She shook her head and flashed him a smile. “No,” she replied. “I can curse in seventeen languages - and I can tell you to fuck me in twenty-four.

Men like us don’t lie to get laid. We don’t suck off a woman. We take care of our shit, not rely on some naive girl to do it for us. We don’t prey on week minded people. Men like us are out there fucking girls who have been cheated on. Men like us are making them feel good about themselves. Men like us are honest with women like you.

We're all broken in one way or another, but it's through the cracks in our souls that the light comes through. And the light, Jenny, that's our art. Now, paint. Paint as if your life depends on it.

For mile after mile the strangler vines choked the sal trees, one grey trunk encircling another, until the whole jungle resembled some terrible tangled knot in which it was impossible to tell murderer from victim.

I don’t want to tell you everything. Actually, I’m not sure I can remember everything. I spent a fair bit of time repressing some of those thoughts, and I don’t really have a huge amount of time for that psychobabble crap: a few things really are better left off where they are.

No one willingly jumps into boiling water; we become suckers to the scheme by comfortably playing in lukewarm water while the heat slowly rises, optimally while showing the latest Hollywood movie while promising free popcorn.

you are owned by your shit, which is owned by your debt, which is either owned or profited by a corporation. So you work for a corporation, everything you buy comes from a corporation, everything you watch is produced by a corporation, and the debt you owe is held by a corporation. Ah

You are it for me. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I want you strong, I want you broken, I want you tied up, I want you on a bar. I want you to be my partner and the mother of my child. I want you now and I want you forever.

Entrepreneurship is neither a science nor an art. It is a practice. ~ Peter Drucker, Author

Because it takes work, often a lot of work and sacrifice, you have to really want to bring something into being.

I dislike routine, but I am a creature of habit.

...men are monsters all, and something in them wants to force others to see the world the same way they see it.

The dead live as long as someone who loves them lives.

It is always sad when two people have been thinking the same thing at the same moment and neither can find a way to say it out loud.

In that case, maybe you‘d be so kind as to leave me alone and let me sleep?" "I want to talk to you." Lords of hell. More talking.

Jiminy Christmas!

We all make mistakes. Unfortunately, that seems to be one thing that doesn't change, even as you get older. I guess that’s what life is, in the end. The chance to make mistakes.

The more I love the person, the more rejection I recieved.

Fight for the beauty in your life

The calling of an author is more than just to entertain, but also to share ones experiences with the world.

The Kabbalah says if we have not fulfilled our condition during one life, we must commence another... until we have acquired the condition that fits our reunion with God.

The ultimate fighter does not rely on his hands or feet to defeat his opponent, but rather his mind.

Wealth eludes most people because they are preoccupied with events while disregarding process. Without process, there is no event.

The faster I went, the tighter she held on, so I went faster.

Nothing ever stayed the same.  But tomorrow had to be better.

together any sort of response to that, so I turned and left. At the store, I got a bag and started stuffing it with one of everything in sight. When I got to the binoculars, I took

History is all around us and you, my lucky few, are living in some of it..

Regret isn’t like grief; it never lessens, just stays the same. A little hard ball in the pit of your stomach.

The business of living can steal away the wonder of life.

It was so long and warm and fat, like an arm without the bones.

I reached across the table and set my hand on his.  I had no words to offer him.  We were meant to make mistakes.  We learned from them. 

The King: Your execution - The Queen: Your marketing - The Bishop: Your customer service - The Knight: Your product - The Rook: Your people - The Pawn: Your ideas.

Change creates millionaires. Those who observe and take advantage of change will be the new millionaires and billionaires.

Good, don't think. Thinking is highly overrated.

As he spoke and bent his head to hers, their lips meeting and the soft, warm creatures of their mouths joining blissfully, his eyes glittered and shone, brighter for a moment than the sun that rose like a crystal, whole and complete in the sky.

Do not be afraid of the unknown, Jake. When you cannot see something, or do not know of it, it does not always follow that it is a thing to be feared. You must embrace it with all your heart and soul. Learn to understand it, for only then will you be able to control it, or prevent it from controlling you.

Value your time poorly and you will be poor. When time is wasted as a lifestyle choice you will be stranded in places you don't want to be. Take a look around. How do your friends, family, and peers value their time? Are they standing in line to save four bucks? Are they driving 40 minutes to save 10 dollars? Are they parked on the sofa anxiously waiting to see who wins Dancing With the Stars?

She didn't do anything at all except arrived without warning in the middle of the night (right when I least expected it) She walked by me, with a strut in her step smelling like summer causing me to turn my head (even the leaves swayed her way) All she did was look at me with bright, curious eyes filled with mirth and secrets (as if an adventure was about to happen) I tried not to think of her at all not the curves of her body or the stories that she told (you knew there'd never be dull conversations) By then, I couldn't walk away I got caught up in her storm without a care in the world (I was a very good swimmer) She was a hurricane who created her own sunshine.

I know how messed up I am. Trust me, I know. I’m fucked up because when I’m around you I can’t think straight. Because the thought of you with someone else makes me feel like I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.

Sometimes, we’re so... we’re so bloody concerned with doing the things everyone expects us to do, we forget that in the end we need to show each other a bit of mercy, pity and peace. And love. Love more than all.

So here’s to the beauties that came to us by fate, the only ones we asked for a second date, the ones who we chose as our best friend, and who really dig us hot as hell tattooed men.” I lifted my glass. “Forever Steel.

I walk through the gate and into the courtyard.  Laney, bellissima Laney, is standing in a wooden vat in one of my dress shirts, unbuttoned and opened, so that her breasts and her black lace panties were partially exposed. Stunning. I stand and take her in, trying to calm the race my heart is running. “Are you going to stand there or are you going to join me?” She smiles.

Some events in our lives are so disturbing, or unsettling, that even when they are over they prevent us from ever going back to the way we were before, back to 'normal.' Whether we like it or not, we as people are forever changed.

The one thing I am now sure of is that if there is such a thing as destiny, it is a result of our passion, be that for money, power, or love. Passion, for better or worse. It can keep a soul alive even if all that survives is a shimmering. I've even seen it. I've been bathed in it. I've been changed by it.

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Make a freaking impact and start providing value! Let money come to you! Look around outside your world, stop being selfish, and help your fellow humans solve their problems. In a world of selfishness, become unselfish. Need something more concrete? No problem. Make 1 million people achieve any of the following: Make them feel better. Help them solve a problem. Educate them. Make them look better (health, nutrition, clothing, makeup). Give them security (housing, safety, health). Raise a positive emotion (love, happiness, laughter, self-confidence). Satisfy appetites, from basic (food) to the risqué (sexual). Make things easier. Enhance their dreams and give hope. … and I guarantee, you will be worth millions.

Freedom was everything to Abraham, and I reckon that makes sense being reared in bondage such as he was, but it was larger than that. Freedom seemed to be a part of him, like it was built in. As much a part of him as his skin or hair or eyes

There are no accidents of fate. Every act has a reaction through lives, through time. Déjà vu and coincidence are God tapping you on the shoulder, telling you to pay attention, showing you that you are walking in the footprint of your own reincarnation.

He, however, pushed her gently but firmly back down onto the bed. “Did I say you could move?” he asked with mock authority. “You lie back and open your legs.” “Yes, sir!” she replied, equally mockingly but full of delight as she stretched her thighs apart. “But you can’t go to your meeting with that!” Daniel looked down. “Why not? Maximilian Roth may be richer than me, but I don’t think he should forget for a moment who has the bigger cock.

Everyone in the tribe believed in life after death and the spirit’s ability to be reborn and live again in a new body. The undying soul was unquestioned. Did not the leaves fall off the tree and become part of the soil that nourished the tree which spouted new leaves?

choose change, and act until echo.

you will greatly increase your chances of success if you stop long enough to get clear on your motivation, understand why you’ve been doing what you’re doing now,

much of life requires waiting and we have a choice to do it happily or miserably.

A book can allow a reader to do nothing or to do everything.

...(T)here is a record in the universe and that if we're attuned to it, we can go back and see it, hear it again, use it.

Not a coincidence, but events coming full circle. The infinite possibilities of energy and spirit.

It is your true destiny. It was only a matter of time before you found it and it found you.

Humans do not stare at other humans’ buttocks,” he reprimands.

most people are fine having Saturday and Sunday as the payment for Monday through Friday. Our society is built on dead dreams. You can build the cog or be the cog.

We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand…and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it before it’s too late. —MARIE BEYNON

The fool has said in his heart: pass me another Everlasting God-Stopper, please.

I've got a Siamese cat. It has 2 heads and 18 lives.

Bungee jumping is like suicide with strings attached.

It is history and as such it is good for teachings only, it cannot change the future unless you dwell on it, unless you let it.

Sometimes love worked out, but more often it failed

My greatest fear is time wasted—a life spent. My greatest fear is passing away from this world without leaving a lasting impact.

If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with.

Love us a gamble and sometimes it hurts, but whether you win or lose being in love is a beautiful thing

Baby, this may not be the time, oh damn…please don’t stop.” Jase was unraveling in front of me and it felt good to have that kind of power. “Carly, I love you.

The bad ones want you to work around them and their time and the decent ones want too much time. I just don’t have it. I am in grind mode. I do not have time to be a mother, a student, a home health care worker and a girlfriend to someone. Now a fuck partner, yea I could get with that.

Holding his gaze, she lifted her hips to bring him inside her. He choked out a groan as he buried himself deep, his body pressed against hers, his length filling her, stretching her, more delicious than she’d imagined. He moved in long, sure strokes, deep, measured. Controlled. Focused.

if you really want it, you’ll keep at it. Despite setbacks, interruptions, and sidetracks. No matter how long you get off course, you’ll eventually return—if you really want what you say you do.

Sono dipendente dei tuoi baci. I'm addicted to your kisses. Sei tutto cio' di cui ho bisogno. You're everything I need. Tu sei l'unico per me, you’re the only one for me. Io e te mai soli. You and me, never alone. Lo e te per sempre. You and me, forever. Delaney, bellissima, Delaney, mi vuoi sposare? Will you marry me?

Maybe something happens to a man at that age when life had always worked out the way he had wanted it, or made it. When he had been able to take it like a block of clay and mold it in the way he saw fit, or grab it like a sapling and force it to bend to his will. When he had been life's master, and not the other way around.

From the very beginning, no matter where Elliot was or what they were doing, Danny's gaze instinctively sought him out. It was like everything else was boring shades of gray, and Elliot was a solar flare, bright and burning.

There's an answer to every question even if it's elusive. The Kabbalah tells us that there's a level of our souls where we all connect to all the world's accumulated knowledge. Jung agreed, just used different words and called it the collective unconscious. It manifests itself in an inner voice we all can hear if we listen deeply enough.

If financial freedom and autonomy are your goals, your beliefs must align with those goals. If they don’t, you’ll either (A) lie to yourself, or (B) sabotage your effort, causing tension and stress. Both make goals unobtainable.

He captured her wrists and pinned them to the tree before covering her mouth with his. This was no gentle kiss, but one filled with hunger long denied, lips crushing, tongue sliding deep, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her.

No helmets for the girls. No pads. No real gloves. And I’m not even going to go into the differences in what type of sticks they’re allowed because that’s just beyond messed up. No body checking. Game stopping every two seconds for some lame-ass penalty that wouldn’t ever be called in the men’s game. If you’ll excuse my language, fuck that. Girls can beat the hell out of each other with a stick just as well as the boys can. If not better, in some cases. Bitches be vicious.

You see, if you’re too plumply entertained in hyperrealistic distraction, you’re no threat—no threat to the paradigms and certainly no threat to the meat grinder awaiting. Just sit back, relax, and focus on your movie because this train is leaving.

They’d talked about the past in their bits-and-pieces way. Never all at once, never one big end-up-crying-and-hugging moment, but a constant brushing up of the past, reexamining actions and decisions and beliefs, offering apologies, forgiveness. All of it had brought them closer to who they were, who they’d always been. Mother and daughter. Their essential, immutable bond—fragile enough to snap at a harsh word a long time ago, durable enough to survive death itself. “Mommy! There you are,” MJ

She was as soft, as sexy as he remembered. Her taste hadn’t changed, her mouth moved beneath his the same way, as if those three years had never passed. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, and hers rose to meet him, glided along his, so right, so right.

...you have all the hallmarks of a seeker...You chase special knowledge. You find threads of connections and then share them with people who need them. I can read it in the way you looked at me, the questions you ask, but more importantly, the ones you don't.

In school, failure is a bad thing. Marked by a bloody F and a parental beatdown, failure is admonished. Fail and you’re grounded! No TV, no iPad! Is it any shock that straight-A students make great employees while the C-students are the guys hiring them? The A-students do as they’re told, follow rules unquestioningly and stay within the lines. Meanwhile, C-student and future billionaire Johnny is a ninth grader’s newest BFF—he’s underneath the bleachers selling his older brother’s Playboys at twenty-five dollars a pop.

There is nothing temporary about us.” “I know that. I know that, now.” “You’re sure?” I ask again. “I am sure about many things that I wasn’t sure of before. I’m sure, it’s alright to be happy all the time. I’m sure that I want to make you happy, all the time. I’m sure that no matter what happens, if we have one or five--” “Six.” I smile as I take her face in my hands. “I’m sure if the sky falls down and the Earth splits in two, you will find a way to force me through it. Dominic, you’re happiness is just as important to me.” “We’ve decided it.” “We have.” “We’re going to have a child.” “Yes.” “And get married.” “Whenever you want to.” “And six kids.” “We’ll see.” She laughs but doesn’t say no. As I hug her tight, I thank our angels in the heavens for guiding us to one another.

His sleeve rode up, revealing an armband tattoo that hadn’t been there before. She was not the kind to get turned on by tattoos, normally, but this one, on the hard-muscled arm of the man she’d once loved, the man she was stuck here with—dangerous. Too dangerous.

How I wish, how fervently I ache, to take my mother's hand, kiss her check,tell her I love her, and watch her smile. For me it was not, nor can ever be. But for you, reach out now. Reach out for your mother's hand-the hands of those you love. Say I love you. Don't wait.

She gasped as he pushed her back against the wall of the elevator.  He bit her bottom lip and tugged it.  His hand ran up her thigh and pushed her panties aside.  His fingers plunged into her core, instantly slick with wetness. He licked his lips. “And this, this is all mine.

He remained still for a moment, not long enough for her to wonder if she’d made a mistake. Then he took charge, wrapping his arms around her, cupping his hand over the back of her head, loosening her hair from its style so it tumbled against her sensitized skin. His lips were firm, like the rest of him, and demanding, his tongue stroking along her bottom lip and into her mouth. His breath came hot and heavy against her cheek, and his erection pressed against her hip. Raindrops fell from his skin to hers, and she marveled that she could feel the warmth of him in those drops.

It's exactly because of what you are," he'd said. Dean hadn't mean prostitute, although he'd deliberately allowed Rob to think so. What you are is beautiful. Warm. Unbearably precious. One night with you, and I'd do anything to keep you. Tear Carwick apart, stone by stone, with my bare hands.

I had enjoyed riding with Ostrander and his Jayhawkers early on. As I said, it reminded me of my days with Black Legs and Dirt Face, when we terrorized the Mexican peasantry and took what we wanted. We were kings then, and I was young. I saw no wrong in it—it was the way of the Comanche. And so it was with Ostrander. We raided, and we killed, and we took, but we did it for righteousness sake, he said. To right the wrong, the evil, of slavery,

He angled his mouth across hers, his kiss gentle, seductive, but sweet in a way that made her forget they were standing naked in the middle of the ocean. It was a kiss that explored more than the physical. He seemed to probe her emotions as well, and laid his own out for her to do with what she would.

She closes her eyes and smiles “Dominic?” “Yes?” “Can it wait, for like nine months?” She opens her eyes and takes my hand, holding it against her stomach. It takes me a few minutes to process what she was telling me. Partially because she was adamant about being careful, and partially because she looks so happy about something, a month ago, she wanted to avoid at all costs. I look in her eyes, searching. I need to know she is truly all right. “You’re sure?” She nods.

He lifted his head, lifted her thighs, and plunged into her, deeper, harder than before. He lowered his mouth to the curve of her throat, lips pulling, teeth scraping as he closed his hands over her hips and opened her wider, thrusting deeper. He sat back on his heels and pulled her over him, guiding her, his mouth slamming down on hers, the kiss verging on violent, his fingers tight on her ass and she came again, locking her legs about his hips, holding him deep inside as pleasure rippled through her.

You talk about trust, and you're the person I trust most in the world. The person I want at my back and by my side. I'd hoped to show you that on the island. I hoped to remind you what a good team we make. I wanted to ask you to come back to me and try again. I swear I'll listen to you, and work with you, and love you, and never take advantage again.

entrepreneurship. Even the teenage boy in my life isn’t interested in entrepreneurship and it doesn’t surprise me. Why? Because they haven’t experienced a shitty boss, a shitty job, or a shitty commute. When you experience how much the system sucks firsthand, the desire appears. Warning people about a hot fire doesn’t work—they need to feel the burn for themselves.

Have you forgotten who we are? Inuttigut. We are Inuit. We live in a place littered with bones, with spirits, with reminders of the past. Nothing dies here and nothing rots: not bones, not plastic, not memories. Especially not memories. We live surrounded by our stories. It's one of our gifts. Unlike most of the rest of the world, we can't escape our stories, Derek.

You will encounter resentful, sneering non-readers who will look at you from their beery, leery eyes, as they might some form of sub-hominid anomaly, bookimus maximus. You will encounter redditters, youtubers, blogspotters, wordpressers, twitterers, and facebookers with wired-open eyes who will shout at from you from their crazy hectoring mouths about the liberal poison of literature. You will encounter the gamers with their twitching fingers who will look upon you as a character to lock crosshairs on and blow to smithereens. You will encounter the stoners and pill-poppers who will ignore you, and ask you if you have read Jack Keroauc’s On the Road, and if you haven’t, will lecture you for two hours on that novel and refuse to acknowledge any other books written by anyone ever. You will encounter the provincial retirees, who have spent a year reading War & Peace, who strike the attitude that completing that novel is a greater achievement than the thousands of books you have read, even though they lost themselves constantly throughout the book and hated the whole experience. You will encounter the self-obsessed students whose radical interpretations of Agnes Grey and The Idiot are the most important utterance anyone anywhere has ever made with their mouths, while ignoring the thousands of novels you have read. You will encounter the parents and siblings who take every literary reference you make back to the several books they enjoyed reading as a child, and then redirect the conversation to what TV shows they have been watching. You will encounter the teachers and lecturers, for whom any text not on their syllabus is a waste of time, and look upon you as a wayward student in need of their salvation. You will encounter the travellers and backpackers who will take pity on you for wasting your life, then tell you about the Paulo Coelho they read while hostelling across Europe en route to their spiritual pilgrimage to New Delhi. You will encounter the hard-working moaners who will tell you they are too busy working for a living to sit and read all day, and when they come home from a hard day’s toil, they don’t want to sit and read pretentious rubbish. You will encounter the voracious readers who loathe competition, and who will challenge you to a literary duel, rather than engage you in friendly conversation about your latest reading. You will encounter the slack intellectuals who will immediately ask you if you have read Finnegans Wake, and when you say you have, will ask if you if you understood every line, and when you say of course not, will make some point that generally alludes to you being a halfwit. Fuck those fuckers.

You know what writing is? Writing is sitting on a chair staring into space. Writing is two hours surfing the internet and five minutes typing. Writing is skim-reading ‘writing advice’ on websites and muttering ‘fuck off’ under your breath. Writing is looking at your friends’ success and muttering ‘fuck off’ under your breath. Writing is reading over what you’ve written and thinking you’re a genius. Writing is reading over what you’ve written and shouting ‘fuck you’ at the screen. Writing is £3500 college courses after which you pursue a career in telemarketing. Writing is something you either fucking do or you fucking don’t. Writing is listening to Tom Waits and wanting to be the literary equivalent. Writing is ending up as the literary equivalent of Bananarama. Writing is forty publishers saying you do not meet our needs at this time. Writing is meeting no one’s needs at any time. Writing is completing 2000 words one morning and weeping about never being able to write again the next. Writing is losing a whole day’s work to a decrepit Dell laptop. Writing is never having the time to write and never writing when you have the time. Writing is having one idea and coasting on that for months until another one comes along. Writing is never having any ideas. Writing is sitting at a bus stop and having four million ideas and not having a notebook to hand. Writing is laughing at the sort of people who keep notebooks on them at all times as if they are proper writers. Writing is reading. Writing is reading. Writing is reading. Writin’ is fightin’. Writing is writing.

Lord Charles Canning, the last Governor-General and first viceroy of India (the transition from East India Company rule to the British Crown took place during his turbulent tenure, 1856–62) wrote candidly to Vernon Smith, president of the Board of Control, on 21 November 1857, at the height of the ‘mutiny’: ‘As we must rule 150 million of people by a handful [of] Englishmen, let us do it in a manner best calculated to leave them divided (as in religion and national feeling they already are) and to inspire them with the greatest possible awe of our power and with the least possible suspicion of our motives’.

...the sensation was so startlingly intense that I couldn‘t help it, I slipped into the shadow. "What in the name of—" Simon jerked backward, voice shocked. "Gods and suns, Lily, where did you go?" I froze where I was, embarrassment flowing over me in a fiery tide that burned everything else away. Sweet lords of hell, what had I done? I was fairly certain that vanishing during such a moment was just not done.

The ancients had instincts and abilities that are lost to civilization today. Magic was real. It lived inside the shamans. Inside the priests. They passed it on from generation to generation. You have the dregs of that power in you. It it not the strength that it was, but you can access it. But to do so you must be willing to travel deep into your own darkness and be open to risk. To pull from the earth's energy.

his is exactly what I mean about rabbit holes. I love them. I don’t find them a waste of time at all. The Internet works like the subconscious - I’m sure somebody’s said that already, it’s so obvious, I just can’t think who it would have been. The point is, this is how dreamwork works: you wake up and think, “Why the hell did I dream that my 2nd grade teacher was masturbating my dental hygienist?” If you were in analysis, you’d probably be able to figure it out if you really wanted to, just like you could probably eventually figure out why YouTube thinks some SpongeBob SquarePants video is related to Natalya Makarova dancing the dying swan. I do like to understand some of the connections, and for others to remain mysterious. This is how I feel about my subconscious as well. And I never really find it a waste of time. If you think about it, you always find something out. Gray seems to be wasting a lot of time, but in his quiet way, he’s figuring out how to deal with the fact that the people we love die. I really don’t think that’s a waste of time. Also, for the record, I really don’t think looking at art (MJ, Pina, Merce) over and over and over, trying to understand what it’s trying to tell you, is a waste of time. I think it may be the most meaningful thing we do. I tell my graduate students this all the time. Don’t let anybody make you feel bad about this.

TOP TEN RESOLUTION PITFALLS 1. Being vague about what you want 2. Not making a serious commitment 3. Procrastinating and excuse making—no time, wrong time, dog ate my homework 4. Being unwilling to go through the awkward phase 5. Not setting up a tracking and reminder system 6. Expecting perfection, falling into guilt, shame, regret 7. Trying to go it alone 8. Telling yourself self-limiting rut stories 9. Not having backup plans 10. Turning slip-ups to give-ups

One Saturday morning walking to the farmers' market with my lover she tells me she needs to look like a man on the street. She hates binding her breasts. Hates having breasts, hates not passing. I press her. I ask her, but what do you feel like when you're naked in bed with me? Do you like your body then? She is quiet. Later she tells me she had a dream. Her mother brought home a bottle of medicine from the hospital for her. The doctor says she has to take it. The medicine is testosterone. On Shabbat I remember to pray for enough space inside of me to hold all the darkness of the night and all the sunlight of the day. I pray for enough space for transformations as miraculous as the shift from day to night. Later when that lover has changed his name and an ex-boyfriend has come out to me as a lesbian I go to visit my best friend's sister-turned-brother-turned-sister-again and she tells me about the blessing of having many names and using them all at once.

He braced his feet apart and lowered his mouth to her throat and lapped the droplets of water from her skin. “I want to feel your mouth on me. I want you to touch me. Christ, Tess, I’ve missed you.” He followed the slope of her breast and hovered above her nipple, waiting. Finally her lips caressed the column of his throat, her tongue making trails over his skin, her mouth moving down to his chest, across his pec to his nipple, which she bit. Punishment, he knew, but a turn-on anyway.