I want to be part of your story. I want your story to rearrange the symbols in my mind. I want your voice to be my voice.
David BowlesTag: inspirational romance
Maybe I'm deceiving myself. Perhaps I don't know him as well as I'd like to imagine. What does a person so willing to utterly remake himself hold inside his heart? Can I trust such a man? What motivates him?
In an instant she knew, and she felt a bit of relief.
Love. Love was what drove him.
Tag: inspirational family romance motivation
Don’t accuse others of eating when juice smears your face-fur.
David BowlesTag: tradition nakÿng-sayings exhortation
Shadows and light deceived us, but sounds we followed true.
David BowlesTag: inspirational science-fiction religous nakÿng-sayings
Retreat is brave when you steal a great prize from your enemy's hands.
David BowlesTag: warfare nakÿng-sayings
Quick as birds to catch the bugs.
David BowlesTag: nakÿng-sayings exhortation
We are all walking the same path, though it ain't some road scored in earth or sky or sea. It's the path of easing suffering, both ours and that of others, and we walk it till ever creature stands free of pain and lies, in unity with truth and peace, at last enlightened and made whole.
David BowlesTag: inspirational
She imagines that she is a seed, driven by the wind, that withstands cold and heat, the worst possible conditions, until one day it falls, like the Bible says, on fertile soil. She knows one day she will flower. This is inevitable. Winter always ends, and springtide blossoms in its place.
David BowlesTag: inspirational
It was not enough that food aplenty was within Man’s grasp: he wanted more.
It was not enough that prey surrendered themselves to Man according to the natural order: Man wanted to cook his prey.
Man had discovered fire when lightning stuck and set a tree or two alight, but he was clumsy and greedy and stupid and could not keep the flame alive
Tag: religion myth responsibility ecology
In the place of the bells, where battle is waged,
The reeds all lie broken in Chalco today.
Dust yellows the air, our houses are smoking,
The sobbing is rising—from the lips of your Chalcans!
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