In the interests of friendship, I hope you’ll forgive me what I’m about to do.”“Forgive you wha—”My sentence was cut off as he clamped his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply....“Ready to make a scene?”He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?”“Not really. To quote something someone said to me recently, in the interests of friendship, I hope you’ll forgive what I’m about to do.” I drew back my hand and slapped him across the face. The smack of flesh striking flesh echoed through the hall. Conversations stopped as people whipped around to stare at us. Raising my voice to something just below a shout, I snarled, “You asshole!

Would you not say that peace is the greatest desire of true soldiers? Do we not have the most to lose from war? And businesses, most of them except military and oil ones, most of them have a vested interest in peace and prosperity. You cannot sell a house to a war refugee living in a tent, can you? Really hard tto sell an iPhone to a shattered victim. Businesses and corporatoons run this country. So yuou have to approach them with logic. Emotional appeals to the hippies of this world will not change minds. Stick to logic.- Shane Gibson, candidate for Governor, THE PLATOS ASCENSION BRIEF.

It’s one thing to be an undead fiend of darkness, but it takes an immense amount of work to look cool while doing it.

I’m scared to fall asleep. I don’t want to see it...

A couple hours went by, and the storm began to turn back to the sea. The dark clouds rolled away, leaving white, fluffy ones in their place. We were safe, and the rock in the distance was still there. We stepped out of the car and walked over to the rock, noticing the families of seals were back again. The seals were strong and ready to make it through any storm that would fall their way. My parents’ love was still there; that is what love means. I envy that love, and I hoped to find it someday... and I did.

I guess there's always a price to pay when you cheat fate.

I sat at my desk, poured myself a glass of wine, and pondered life...my profession...was it meaningless? I took a long, drawn-back swig of the bourbon and slammed down the glass. I only then noticed the stream of filtered light illuminating through the window, through the partially drawn shades. It was beautiful. I thought to myself, "I am a critic. My life is criticizing the works of others, the joys of others, the very essence of what others have toiled, agonized and gone mad over. "I am a critic. I write in a magazine about how I don't like what someone else likes, merely because they wrote it." Write what you love, they always say. "I am a hater," I said, pondering the beautiful sunlight and my glass of alcohol, "...but I hate for the enjoyment of others.

Struggling transforms her captor into a Chinese finger trap. She’s suffocating. Sucking in air without relief. Her lungs expand. Contract. Expand. They fill with lies and broken promises. With despair and lost hope. Each inhale is empty. Invisible hands reach into her body and constrict around her windpipe. She watches her friends collapse like supernovae, their cognizance disappearing into a black hole. A black hole she’s quickly cascading into. The dark consumes, bleeds into her vision. She blinks. Catches icy blue eyes peeking out from the shadows.

I thought it was just him,” she says, ignoring him. “But then I found out I had the same effect, which means the Society did something to my head too.”Gage’s eyes close, horror washing over him. “You really do love him.”“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Her cries start up again, piercing his heart. “Gage, help me.”“I love you,” he says, holding her closer. “That’s real.

It is hard to take the last step, but the hardest thing is to make a choice between the unwillingness to live and the inability to die.

They always act this way: push those who are falling.

Hope, tell me how could it be possible that grief and happiness are scattered all over the world so unevenly? Why do some people get all the troubles and misfortunes while the others are intoxicated with the abundance of material belongings, fat bellies and money? Why is there such injustice? Or, maybe, we are mistaken it’s unfair!?

Is it so hard to offer your help and sympathy to somebody in grief? It takes a little to make one step, but, in an inexplicable manner, it stretches into thousands of kilometers. All of us are full of empathy and consolation but always prefer to express it from a distance.

People! Please. Listen. Our life, our bodies are the most authentic clinical record ever! Why do you have to ask for any other one, alien, fake, distorted by illegible handwriting belonging to someone who has never been us and has never tried to understand us? Do you think that is right?

Maybe the consequences of someone’s unreason can be remedied only with a new unreason?

It always turns out this way: at first people idolize you, swear to be your faithful friend forever and then spit in your tea and in your soul, too.

I think everything’s beautiful that is done through human’s heart and soul, that makes one’s inner world visible, that gives a chance to look at oneself from outside – everything is beautiful, even us.

We always humble ourselves before bastards - it has already become a tradition.

Sometimes it feels like you and I are at the movie theater, sitting next to each other and watching the same movie. People say something, argue incessantly, even fight, but this is all somewhere far away, on the other side of the screen, and we are just passive onlookers unable to affect the course of events.

At times it is so enjoyable to mire your neighbor into the filth you already got stuck in long ago!

And now, it turns out that our mother’s name means benevolence and generosity to people as objects of love! This is both a unique and beautiful name, Charity. “It was one of life’s cruel ironies,” I thought, “that a midwife, or whoever filled in the documents, must have known our mom’s name. I suppose she had a lot of fun naming us Hope and Faith! Or, on the contrary, she sympathized.

It is worthy of note that killing oneself and killing someone is not the same. For the former, one should lose one’s faith, for the latter, one should never have any.

Oh, this tormenting concern that your neighbor’s life might be better than yours! And how great it feels when you realize that the truth is exactly the opposite; and we’re not so different after all. Nоthing brings true neighbors together like a little friendly competition.

All our life we had been dreaming to get through every little hole into this beautiful and unfamiliar world where parents and children love each other not for something but in spite of everything, to plunge into this fairy world entirely, settle down and live there. So why didn’t I feel happy when it happened for real?

I should be grateful to the knife that’s curing me for being so sharp.

People have no limits either in love or in hatred. But is it their fault? They despise us because they are afraid, for we remind them that getting crippled or sick might happen to anyone; or, perhaps, the true reason of their hatred lies much deeper inside, stemming from the hidden ugliness of their own souls?

Probably, sooner or later every person founds oneself to be needless.

How perfectly evil spirit and beauty can combine in one person, harmonically supplementing each other.

Would he as well neglect the perishing person, wouldn’t he help to get up, would he turn away? I think I know the answer is obvious. He was flying so high above each of us that after falling down he got below everybody else. To be precise, he was simply knocked down. And we, none of us, just did nothing. Thus, with everybody’s silent acquiescence, the best of us were eliminated in order to let others decay.

What if initially they had named you Faith and me Hope, but afterwards they forgot who of us had which name and swapped them around by mistake? You always believe that everything is going to be all right, and your faith helps me.”“And you hope that it will be that way. We have this close bond between us,” and, after thinking a while, you added, “All people need hope, no one can live without it; and our hope is way stronger when it is warmed up by faith. So it isn’t really important who is Faith and who is Hope; the main thing is that we are connected together.

What is the point of living if we are going to die anyway? What difference does it make if it’s going to happen now or later? All we have to do is to take a step and jump off; that will resolve all problems, answer all questions at a time. And what if we are already flying down? We have jumped off, – perhaps, right after the birth, – not even knowing about it! The ground is already near; we just have the last moment to live and finally realize we are already dead for a long time.

You have always understood and accepted my most genuine, most intimate impulses and responded to them with surprising accuracy. I wish all people turned into such mirrors for each other.

Hope, what if initially they had named you Faith and me Hope, but afterwards they forgot who of us had which name and swapped them around by mistake? You always believe that everything is going to be all right, and your faith helps me.”“And you hope that it will be that way. We have this close bond between us,” and, after thinking a while, you added, “All people need hope, no one can live without it; and our hope is way stronger when it is warmed up by faith. So it isn’t really important who is Faith and who is Hope; the main thing is that we are connected together.

I clearly saw us from outside, like in a picture: we are not people, we are a road sign warning: “Stop and thank luck because such fate didn’t befall you as befell us, and only then keep going your way”.

I gave you a few laughs and showed you a good time, but there was no future with me. So although it was fun while it lasted, you made up your mind to choose the stability and security a rich man can offer.”She shook her head. “No.”“No?”“If you look in your heart, you know that’s not true.”“So, what is it then, he went into a jealous rage and he threatenedyou?”“Yes.”“With your life?”“No.”“Well then...”“With yours.

Percy tightened his grip on Annabeth's wrist. His face was gaunt, scraped and bloody, his hair dusted with cobwebs, but when he locked eyes with her, she thought he had never looked more handsome. "We're staying together," he promised. "You're not getting away from me. Never again." Only then did she understand what would happen. A one-way trip. A very hard fall. "As long as we're together," she said. She heard Nico and Hazel still screaming for help. She saw the sunlight far,f ar above-maybe the last sunlight she would ever see. Then Percy let go of his tiny ledge, and together, holding hands, he and Annabeth fell into the endless darkness.

Revenge never ends until everything and everyone around it is destroyed. A vengeful heart never rests.

Lonliness is a bitch, but then so is alimony and child support.- a very disillusioned Apoorva, THE PLATOS ASCENSION BRIEF.

We all got pushed into doing some bad stuff. And some people would blame all of that stuff on their circumstances. Maybe most people do. They come from shit and then do some shit. But you and I know better than that. It's not right. The stuff that's done to us is one thing. But the stuff we do because of it is a different story. There are very few things that are really beyond a person's control in life."-Caesar

Because you know that's all I needs, all I wants, is for you to try to run, to turn your back on me and run. I know you aint going to. Because all you got to beat is me. I got to beat old Carothers. Get your pistol.""No," the other said. "Go home. Get out of here. Tonight I will come to your house-----""After this?" Lucas said. "Me and you, in the same country, breathing the same air even? No matter what you could say, what you could even prove so I would have to believe it, after this? Get your pistol.

Seems like we own the day! Now die like a good Christ!- Boniface de Monteferret, ON THE WALLS OF CHRISTAs Constantinople falls.