Silence propagates itself, and the longer talk has been suspended, the more difficult it is to find anything to say.
I… What are you saying, Zsadist?" she stammered, even though she'd heard every word. He glanced back down at the pencil in his hand and then turned to the table. Flipping the spiral notebook to a new page, he bent way over and labored on top of the paper for quite a while. Then he ripped the sheet free. His hand was shaking as he held it out. "It's messy." Bella took the paper. In a child's uneven block letters there were three words: I LOVE YOU Her lips flattened tight as her eyes stung. The handwriting got wavy and then disappeared.  "Maybe you can't read it," he said in a small voice. "I can do it over."  She shook her head. "I can read it just fine. It's… beautiful." "I don't expect anything back. I mean… I know that you don't… feel that for me anymore. But I wanted you to know. It's important that you knew.
But the only way never to do the wrong thing is never to do anything.
Is love supposed to last throughout all time, or is it like trains changing at random stops. If I loved her, how could I leave her? If I felt that way then, how come I don't feel anything now?
Adrian smiled and clasped my hands, taking a few steps toward me. "And as for who you are, you’re the same beautiful, brave, and ridiculously smart caffeinated fighter you’ve been since the day I met you.†Finally, he put “beautiful†at the top of his list of adjectives. Not that I should have cared. “Sweet talker,†I scoffed. “You didn’t know anything about me the first time we met.†“I knew you were beautiful,†he said. “I just hoped for the rest.
...[G]reat progress was evident in the last Congress of the American 'Labour Union' in that among other things, it treated working women with complete equality. While in this respect the English, and still more the gallant French, are burdened with a spirit of narrow-mindedness. Anybody who knows anything of history knows that great social changes are impossible without the feminine ferment. Social progress can be measured exactly by the social position of the fair sex (the ugly ones included).
One would think that if you're anonymous, you'd do anything you want, but groups have their own sense of community and what we can do.
Ive never known a person to live to one hundred and be remarkable for anything else.
None of us will ever accomplish anything excellent or commanding except when he listens to this whisper which is heard by him alone.
'Virtual Reality' is a name being slapped on almost anything these days, especially if it's lame.