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Harriet, Hi! Light of my eye! Come to the pictures and have a good cry, For it's jolly old Saturday, Mad-as-a-hatter-day, Nothing-much-matter-day-night!
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They took to silence. They touched each other without comment and without progression. A hand on a hand, a clothed arm, resting on an arm. An ankle overlapping an ankle, as they sat on a beach, and not removed. One night they fell asleep, side by side... He slept curled against her back, a dark comma against her pale elegant phrase.
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You can look at the words on this paper and, because they are the ones I am used to choosing, they will show you the shape of me. I am here to be read in the way you might read the impression of my weight in a bed after a still night, a restless night, a night not alone.
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You just came wild and sexy all over my hand and even left some claw marks on my back to prove it. Don’t go getting shy on me now. ‘Cause baby, before the night is over you will be naked in my bed.
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Listening to the Fifth Symphony of Ralph Vaughan Williams is like staring at a cow for 45 minutes.
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There's a great space in which this moment takes place. There's a great silence that is listening to the thoughts.
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Listening is being able to be changed by the other person.
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So yesterday you fell off the wagon? Or maybe you blew your diet? Or lost your temper and shot off your mouth? Well, that was yesterday. Today is a brand-new day with a clean slate, so forget yesterday!
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The power to bind and loose to Truth is given: The mouth that speaks it is the mouth of Heaven, The power, which in a sense belongs to none, Thus understood belongs to every one.
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No one's mouth is big enough to utter the whole thing.
