Her caramel skin and curly beach sand hair spreads in wavy chops like the choppy storm waves on the ocean. Her fluffy rose colored lips glisten with eyes emerald green and almond shaped set deep into her face and yet when she looks at you with those same deep set eyes, it feels like they jump out, speaking to you.
She might not have read many books. But when she reads a book, she swallows the very words. If you open the books on her shelves, you will find that the front and back covers encase white pages.
I am five, I will never understandwhy we are stranded in our selvesbut in this moment I knowmy own storyis understanding our singlenessthat I am destined to move my body and timeinto the body-timethe storyof Others.
I need not adapt in certain ways. I am in fact but a visitor to this world, an ephemeral gasp within its long, tired history, and, before anything else, a follower of Christ. By this alone I have the power not to shuffle away from the Faith, the power to break loose from these marching-shackles of ongoing cultural and political pretense.
The greatest war story ever told commemorates a war that established no boundaries, won no territory, and furthered no cause.
This, the only occasion in the Iliad when furious Achilles smiles serves as a bittersweet reminder of the difference real leadership could have made to the events of the Iliad. Agamemnon's panicked prize-grabbing in Book One and even Nestor's rambling authority pale beside Achilles' instinctive and absolute command of himself and the dangers of this occasion.
Surely, by all convention, the Iliad will end here, with the triumphant return of its vindicated hero. But the Iliad is not a conventional epic, and at the very moment of its hero's greatest military triumph, Homer diverts his focus from Achilles to the epic's two most important casualties, Patroklos and Hektor: it is to the consequences of their deaths, especially to the victor, that all action of the Iliad has been inexorably leading.
Homer's epic does not tell of such seemingly essential events as the abduction of Helen, for example, nor of the mustering and sailing of the Greek fleet, the first hostilities of the war, the Trojan Horse, and the sacking and burning of Troy. Instead, the 15,693 lines of Homer's Iliad describe the occurrences of a roughly two-week period in the tenth and final year of what had become a stalemated siege of Troy.
For Achilles, the death of Patroclus pushed him into a fury, but it was not only grief that drove him. It was also a sense of shame and guilt because he had not been there to protect his friend. Sometimes men in combat feel this sort of survivor’s guilt even though, realistically, they could have done nothing to prevent their comrade’s death.
My life wasn’t just about one city, or one Epic, anymore. It was about a war. It was about finding a way to stop the Epics.Permanently.
Lost race?” The Prince studied Orayna, trying to see something inhuman in her. “Why have I never heard of these ‘Rathiuel’?” “Because,” Azaroth rapped his knuckles on the Prince’s skull, “you do not care to read.
Oh, how scary and wonderful it is that words can change our lives simply by being next to each other.
In every journey comes a moment... one like no other. And in that moment, you must decide between who you are... and who you want to be.
Small men command the letter of the law. Great men serve its spirit. For the spirit of the law is justice... and justice is the spirit of God.
But have a care! It is a bitter blade, and steel serves only those that can wield it. It will cut your hand as willingly as aught else.
What kind of person do you wish to be? A part of those who take action, who try the hardest, or of those who go with the flow?
I turn back to Griffin. His expression is stony and unreadable, although if I had to take a wild guess, I’d say it was tending toward ominous.
It’s just you always…” “Run,” I finish for him… I gaze up at him. Soft light plays over his striking features – the hard planes of his cheekbones, his strong jaw, the slight hook in his nose. “I’ll still run, Griffin. The difference now is that I’ll run to you.” He looks at me for a long time, his gray eyes inscrutable. “You’d better.” I arch an eyebrow. “Or you’ll spank me?
It’s amazing what desperation can do to a person. It can seep into the heart. Turn us into the very monsters we fight. -Vexis
You will know him by the blade he carries and the Dark-born skill with which he wields it, for none who know the love of the Father may defeat the Darkblade, yet all must stand against him.
There was something severed and rough about her, something tainted and, yet, at the same time those jagged pieces were the makings of something fearsome. She'd wanted to become someone the Senate would fear, why not shatter the sky?
The rhythm of fraught footsteps and fervent heartbeat orchestrated a symphony of anticipation and dread.
Oh, how long were the days of a man.When he strode upon the broken land.He sailed as far as a man could steer.And he never wished to lose his fear.For the fear of man is a thing untold.It keeps him safe, and it proves him bold!Don’t let fear make you cease to strive,for that fear it proves you remain alive!I will walk this broken road,and I will carry a heavy load!So come at me with your awful lies,I’m a man of truth and I’ll meet your eyes!
Azerowut, I must tend to an urgently urgent business and a business that is urgent most urgently. Watch over my tent with extreme care and care that is caring in the extreme, and do not, under any circumstantial circumstances, allow anyone and his brother to be within an uncomfortably uncomfortable distance of her door. --Master Kwadile
In many ways my life has been rather like a record of the lost and found. Perhaps all lives are like that.