Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand achs like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
"It's the fourth? Of June? Are you sure? It can't be! How did that happen?" "But...the...you...I...insanity!" "Why am I covered in feathers?" -Bella Swan
"Penguins. Lovely." "Did you run over someone's cat?" -Edward Cullen
"I have forseen..." "This hostage stuff is fun." "Speaking of Italy and cars I stole there." "What if you two run past something reflective?" -Alice Cullen
"Bye, Bella. I really hope you don't die." "Does my being half naked bother you?" -Jacob Black
"You. Got. Food. In. My. Hair." "I'd like to beat you dead." -Rosalie Hale
Some people are like slinkies-not really good for anything but they bring a smile to your face when pushed down the stairs.
A dream is the answer to a question not yet asked.
One time I was wondering how frisbies fly when you throw them and then it hit me.
"When Renoir spoke of light and dark, he meant the translucent images that pattern themselves into night and day and good and evil. When I speak of light and dark, I mean toast." -Howard Johnson
