My mother came into the kitchen. "Whose car is that parked in front of our house?"That's Stephanie's new car," Grandma said. "isn't it a pip?"One of my mother's eyebrows raised in question. "Two new cars? Where are these cars coming from?"Company cars," I said."Oh?"Anal sex is not involved," I told her. My mother and grandmother both gasped."Sorry," I said. "It just slipped out."I thought only homosexual men did anal sex," Grandma said."anybody with an anus can do it," I told her."Hmm," she said. "I got one of them.
Janet EvanovichAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: April 22, 1943
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The canary began to sing again. The sun had struck it, and its throat and tiny breast had filled with song. Francis gazed at it for a long time, not speaking, his mouth hanging half opened, his eyes dimmed with tears."The canary is like man's soul," he whispered finally. "It sees bars round it, but instead if despairing, it sings. It sings, and wait and see, Brother Leo: one day its song shall break the bars.
Nikos Kazantzakis
...the people who find fault with society are too apt to regard it as an end and not a means, just as the people who despise money speak as if its only use were to be kept in bags and gloated over? Isn't it fairer to look at them both as opportunities, which may be used either stupidly or intelligently, according to the capacity of the user?
Edith Wharton
A wise man once said that all human activity is a form of play. And the highest form of play is the search for Truth, Beauty and Love. What more is needed? Should there be a ‘meaning’ as well, that will be a bonus? If we waste time looking for life’s meaning, we may have no time to live — or to play.
Arthur C. Clarke
