#tom

Tomorrow doesn't really exist. ↗

— Ricky Williams

#really #tomorrow

Go, forget me - why should sorrow, O'er that brow a shadow fling? Go, forget me - and tomorrow, brightly smile and sweetly sing. Smile - though I shall not be near thee; Sing - though I shall never hear thee. ↗

— Charles Wolfe

#brow #fling #forget #go #hear

It takes more drawing to tell a story in pantomime. ↗

— Jim Woodring

#more #pantomime #story #takes #tell

The KXL pipeline would make it easy and cost effective for oil producers in Canada to transport oil to the Gulf of Mexico where it could be shipped to customers - not just in the United States - but around the world. ↗

— Ron Wyden

#canada #cost #could #customers #easy

It was becoming more and more evident that Salem was a town that celebrated individuality, a real live-and-let-live kind of place. Melody felt a gut punch of regret. Her old nose would have fit in here. "Look!" She pointed at the multicolored car whizzing by. Its black door were from a Mercedes coupe, the white hood from a BMW; the silver trunk was Jaguar, the red convertible top was Lexus, the whitewall tires were Bentley, the sound system was Bose, and the music was classical. A hood ornament from each model dangled from the rear view mirror. Its license plate appropriately read MUTT. "That car looks like a moving Benton ad." "Or a pileup on Rodeo drive." Candace snapped a picture with her iPhone and e-mailed to her friends back home. They responded instantly with a shot of what they were doing. It must have involved the mall because Candace picked up her pace and began asking anyone under the age of fifty where the cool people hung out. ↗

— Lisi Harrison

#differences #individual #new-town #plastic-surgery #regrets

The dusty tombs of long-dead exorcist priests lay in the alcoves below, surmounted by stone effigies, the features eroded by the passing of time and the reverent caresses of their grateful parishioners, a reminder, she knew all too well, of the brevity of life. ↗

— Sarah Ash

#death #grave #life #loss #time

...his soul (was) ringing like a well-struck bell. But it was a bell that rang with more than joy and adoration — there was the sound there too of anger and resentment. She would not look at him because she did not want to be in his presence. She hated him and he (how could he not?) hated her in return. ↗

— Paul Hoffman

#arbell #cale #god #hand #hate

I am drawn to Tom Sawyer Island because a tribute to Mark Twain would not be out of place in a theme park of my own design. Should Vowell World ever get enough investors, I'm going to stick my Tom Sawyer Island in Love and Death in the American Novel Land right between the Jay Gatsby Swimming Pool and Tom Joad's Dust Bowl Lanes, a Depression-themed bowling alley renting artfully worn-out shoes. ↗

— Sarah Vowell

#as-i-lay-dying #great-gatsby #humor #mark-twain #tom-sawyer

I'm not sure he's wrong about automobiles," he said. "With all their speed forward they may be a step backward in civilization -- that is, in spiritual civilization. It may be that they will not add to the beauty of the world, nor to the life of men's souls. ↗

— Booth Tarkington

#technology #transportation #beauty

Tom felt his darkness. His father was beautiful and clever, his mother was short and mathematically sure. Each of his brothers and sisters had looks or gifts or fortune. Tom loved all of them passionately, but he felt heavy and earth-bound. He climbed ecstatic mountains and floundered in the rocky darkness between the peaks. He had spurts of bravery but they were bracketed in battens of cowardice. ↗

— John Steinbeck

#personality #philosophy #psychology #tom-hamilton #beauty