Despise not death, but welcome it, for nature wills it like all else.
Only cops and vampires have to have an invitation to enter.
Why at the beginning of things is there always light? Dorrigo Evans’ earliest memories were of sun flooding a church hall in which he sat with his mother and grandmother. A wooden church hall. Blinding light and him toddling back and forth, in and out of its transcendent welcome, into the arms of women. Women...
Bienvenidos a mi barco pirata. Vamos rumbo a Venecia, a cazar vampiros.
Everyone I vote for never wins. Welcome to America.
I’d seen people overstay their welcome and I didn’t want that to happen at all.
There was a spring in his carefully measured step. He opened the door and let the sunlight in, as if opening himself up, letting pent-up energy out and, letting the world enter inside- letting the light illuminate him. It was strange to see him like that, a tad amusing perhaps. He had thought it over....
A tuna steak and a salad? Seventy bucks. Welcome to Los Angeles.
by each falling unknown her love was leaving her soulat least she knew this.seasons don’t stay for allleaving part stopped someday.she didn’t stopped.got new welcomethrough her new makeovera soul-that took new birth in someone’sunconditional love.
It only takes one cat – or person – to make another feel welcome and special.
Time off from the news is always something I welcome.
One of the marvelous things about community is that it enables us to welcome and help people in a way we couldn’t as individuals. When we pool our strength and share the work and responsibility, we can welcome many people, even those in deep distress, and perhaps help them find self-confidence and inner healing.
With good reason, love’s messengers, Eros and Kama, are armed with bows and long-distance arrows. No being, god or mortal, can choose love. Love comes despite ourselves; and then, if we have not already done so, we have the task of becoming our selves so we may welcome love.
The waves splash against my face, carrying a message: Welcome, you belong here.
What is ordinary to you maybe a desert of woeful newness to another.
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