opening-lines

I am a vampire, and that is the truth.

Did you wish upon a star and take the time to try to make your wish come true?Did you try to paint the sunrise and find the gift of life within?Did you write a song just for the joy of it?Or write a poem just to feel the pain?Did you find a reason to ignore the petty injustices, the spoken barbs, or the envies, jealousies and greed that crossed your path?Did you wake up this morning and whisper inside, __oday, I__l find every reason to smile, and ignore the excuses to frown.__oday will be the day I__l whisper nothing snide, I__l say nothing cruel. I__l be kind to my enemy, I__l embrace my friends, and for thisone day, I__l forget the slights of the past.Today will be the day I__l live for the joy of it, laugh for the fun of it, and today, I__l love whether it__ returned, forsaken, or simplyignored.And if you did, then your heart has joined the others who have as well, uniting, strengthening, and in a single heartbeat you__e createda world of hope.

What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died?

The madness of an autumn prairie cold front coming through...ringing throughout the house was an alarm bell that no one but Alfred and Enid could hear directly.

I met Jack Kennedy in November, 1946. We were both war heroes, and both of us had just been elected to Congress.

If a lioness spends her hours pacing back and forth in a cage of gold with the finest meats at her disposal, does that make her any less of a prisoner? If that same feline__ fangs are filed down to blunt, un-tearing teeth and her roar is silenced, can she still be called a lioness?

Grandfather recently died. He died alone on a trip away from home in a town where no one expected him to be

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed.

No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality.

Maybe punching her enemy right in the nose wasn't the smartest way to get out of class, but it was definitely a much more entertaining way.

Where shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly 's done, when the battle 's lost and won

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

She was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when she decided to summon the devil and sell her soul for fame. As you do. Hell, we__e all been there_ Of course, things didn__ go according to plan. Never have, never will_

Who is John Galt?

My name is Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered.

My life might have been so different, had I not been known as the girl whose grandmother exploded. And had I not been born in Bad Munstereifel. If we had lived in the city -- well, I"m not saying the event would have gone unnoticed, but the fuss would probably only have lasted a week before public interest moved elsewhere. Besides, in a city you are anonymous; the chances of being picked out as Kristel Kolvenbach's granddaughter would be virtually zero. But in a small town -- well, small towns everywhere are rife with gossip, but in Germany they raise it to an art form.

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.

That you should not be here when something we've both wanted happens is no new thing for me. Today too, as always, you're not here.