My heart speaks with yours 
in shadows and dreams
Images that flash before me 
Inviting and begging more 
Fading too quickly 
Leaving  only their faint confirmation
as frail as smoke

Fee-uck, man. This game is still on. I get that sixty-two yet. I get his ass and whip it into shape. Damnright. I get that shitpiss sixty-two and beat his black ass into the ground."  "He’s white," I said.  "I know he’s white. They’re all white. Everybody’s white. Black fucks.

Bulstrode, after a moment’s hesitation, took his hat from the floor and slowly rose,

And yet.. even if you had been right, it would only have been by accident. A broken clock is right two times a day.

Written By Orson Scott Card

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links