It’s much easier . . . to be on the verge of something than to actually be it. This would still take time.
Amen,’ I say, delayed, and now, like many of these people, I pray for the first time in years.
god bless the man with the beard, the missing teeth and the poverty Ritchie
For Liesel Meminger, the early stages of 1942 could be summed up like this:
She became thirteen years of age. Her chest was still flat. She had not yet bled. The young man from her basement was now in her bed.
How did Max Vandenburg end up in liesel’s bed? He fell.
I see their ugly and their beauty, and wonder how the same thing can be both.
It was one of the joys of childhood.
It’s also worthy of mention that every pattern has at least one small bias, and one day it will tip itself over or fall from one page to another.
Anhelaba volver a la inconsciencia de entonces, a sentir tanto amor sin saberlo y a confundirlo con las risas y el pan untado con poco más que el aroma de la mermelada.
Fue la mejor época de su vida.
Aunque quedaría sembrada de bombas
It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on, coughing and searching, and finding.
I called back, but not loud enough, probably. I don’t like making noise in public