You're lucky. I'm always conscious of myself __n my mind. Painfully conscious.

My inward experience has often been a wilderness; but Thou hast owned me still as Thy beloved, and poured streams of love and grace into me to gladden me, and make me fruitful.

His gut was stitched up good and tight, but that didn__ prevent it from flopping. He wiped his damp palms on the legs of his jeans and stood up shakily, leaning heavily on his cane.He called himself a masochist for putting himself through this torture day after day.He braced himself for the disappointment of having to go home alone.He braced himself for happiness like he__ never known in his entire life.He watched the door they would come through.

A common fallacy in much of the adverse criticism to which science is subjected today is that it claims certainty, infallibility and complete emotional objectivity. It would be more nearly true to say that it is based upon wonder, adventure and hope.

For an occurrence to become an adventure, it is necessary and sufficient for one to recount it.

Poetry creates the myth, the prose writer draws its portrait.