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There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.
My mother came to stay for a week after my eldest was born. She cooked, cleaned, showed me how to manage the basic baby-care routines. I felt utterly desolated when the time came for her to leave. 'Do not worry. You are perfectly capable of looking after this baby,' she said. I didn't believe her.
They're hooked, no longer hear the church's gong, the stories or the insights that beget it, Real need for intimacy drives them on, a bare heartbeat from chaste religious song.
A nightstick doesn't sound fearsome, but when you see one up close you respect the inherent violence of the thing. I stared at it for a while, contemplating how a burly policeman with his feet set could deliver a cracking blow to a head or a shoulder or an arm flung across your face to protect your eyes and brains.
And in the raucosity of blogs, the avidity of trolls, the ubiquity of porn, the vidvidvidity of tubes, the facebookery of profiles, the aviary of twittervation — can the mind still find that space to stretch itself?
The city seemed always to sulk under clouds. Only occasionally the sun showed its face, promising something but never delivering: just like his life. He was confused and often afraid. He had not wanted to leave his home, but his family had sacrificed much to send him here, and he was starting to feel he had let them down.
'When it comes to the kiss, philosophy has very little to say,' you once protested. 'It would seem that the lovers of wisdom don't know how to kiss!' ... Always longing for union with my other (and better) half, the two pieces, long astray, finally fitted together, mouth-to-mouth ...
The label 'crazy script' really infuriated me. The article suggested the Irish were all the better for having parted with their own 'crazy' Gaelic script in the 20th century. But an attack on a culture's language is an efficacious way of destroying the culture itself, and scrapping an alphabet seemed to me to be the thin edge of the wedge.
... is up to something, but will not reveal that tricksy intention ... it listens for the starting gun in the hands of a distant God.
The straggly lines of his arguments follow cow paths ... He laughs as much as he spits. Veins in his cheeks, grey hair testament to frosty mornings, a bull bowling his wife over in the yard ... My father had developed a bad habit of listening.
In 1999 my 22-year-old daughter sustained a head injury in a motor vehicle accident. She now contends with the use of only one normally functioning limb amid multiple disabilities. The 'support' provided by family carers is said to save the nation billions of dollars annually. But carers give much more than support.
We have wished to invade Australia like you'd never imagined from where we are based in Pakistan and Afghanistan, countries reduced by hegemony to hell. We ruled the waves till we were in sight of an island that looked from afar like a welcome entity.
A wooden sturdy poker, it helped on the days when you couldn't feel the floor, but was no substitute for a seat on the tram when you don't look sick or expecting.