We have a disharmony in our natures. We cannot live together without injuring each other.
They looked at each other, baffled, in love and hate.
Serve you right if something did get you, you useless lot of cry-babies!
I am not a theologian or a philosopher. I am a story teller.
What could be safer than the bus center with its lamps and wheels?
An orotundity, which I define as Nobelitis a pomposity in which one is treated as representative of more than oneself by someone conscious of representing more than himself.