I have these knives in my chest that can’t become words.
A person’s words reflect the image of his character and the amount of truth and lies in it is always visible to the human heart than ordinary eyes.
Through words to the meaning of thoughts with no words.
Most likely, they were writing the same type of macho bullshit that I wrote, trying to sound tough with their words in case words were all that made it home.
‘You can’t stop me. Your word voodoo, it doesn’t work on me. Right? So how do you think you’re going to-‘
Eliot produced a pistol. He didn’t seem to pull it from anywhere. He just suddenly had it.
Wil’s eyes stung.
‘See?’ Eliot put away the gun. ‘There are all kinds of persuasion.’
Every individual is an author in himself. It is only that he falls short of words to express; list of stories.
Another one of your quippy japes?
Many confuse things with their names. This is a mistake. A name is only a word and a word will never be the thing itself. And, yet, names – as words – have power, not inherently, but because we give it to them.
Anything you say at this point cannot be trusted. You know I am well and truly angry, so you are in the grip of fear. This means I cannot trust any word you say, as it comes from fear. You are clever, and charming, and a liar. I know you can bend the world with your words. So I will not listen.