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“You can manicure a cat but can you caticure a man?”
― John Lennon, Skywriting by Word of Mouth and Other Writings

“When I looked up at the stars, I saw us. You were the stars and I was the dark sky behind youâ€�
“Without dark sky you couldn’t see the stars�
“I knew I was useful� he says
“You’re essential”
― Jenn Bennett, Starry Eyes

“I used to think it was mere homesickness, then I started getting it at home.”
― John Lennon

“I carry a torch in one hand
And a bucket of water in the other:
With these things I am going to set fire to Heaven
And put out the flames of Hell
So that voyagers to God can rip the veils
And see the real goal.”
― rabiah al adawiyah

“What's that?"
"French press."
"For coffee? Real coffee? Not instant?"
"We're camping, Zorie, not living in a dystopian nightmare.”
― Jenn Bennett, Starry Eyes

“We?"
"You and me, yes."
"The two of us hiking to Condor Peak? Alone?"
"I wasn't planning on inviting the bear along, but if you think we need a chaperone..”
― Jenn Bennett, Starry Eyes

“We’re under the same starry sky,â€� I say.
“We always are.�
“Not together,� I argue.
“I think we’ve always been together, even when we were apart,� he says, slipping his hand around mine.
“I know it’s a cliché, but sometimes I would look up at the stars and wonder if you were ever looking at them at the same time,� I admit.
“When I looked up at the stars, I saw us. You were the stars, and I was the dark sky behind you.”
― Jenn Bennett, Starry Eyes

“You were the stars, and I was the dark sky behind you."
"Without dark sky, you couldn't see the stars."
"I knew I was useful," he says.
"You're essential.”
― Jenn Bennett, Starry Eyes

“For our one-month anniversary, he made me a picture map.

A map of us.

It’s years in the making, and it’s messy and convoluted, some of it even tragic. But I wouldn’t change the route, because we walked it together, even when we were apart. And the best part about it is that it’s unfinished.

Uncertainty isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it can even be filled with extraordinary potential.”
― Jenn Bennett, Starry Eyes

“A lot of stories about me getting into trouble start with a girl.”
― Kelley Armstrong, Missing

“...for a piece of famous fluffiness that doesn't just pretend about what real lives can be like, but moves on into one of the world's least convincing pretences about what people themselves are like, consider the teased and coiffed nylon monument that is 'Imagine': surely the My Little Pony of philosophical statements. John and Yoko all in white, John at the white piano, John drifting through the white rooms of a white mansion, and all the while the sweet drivel flowing. Imagine there's no heaven. Imagine there's no hell. Imagine all the people, living life in - hello? Excuse me? Take religion out of the picture, and everybody spontaneously starts living life in peace? I don't know about you, but in my experience peace is not the default state of human beings, any more than having an apartment the size of Joey and Chandler's is. Peace is not the state of being we return to, like water running downhill, whenever there's nothing external to perturb us. Peace between people is an achievement, a state of affairs we put together effortfully in the face of competing interests, and primate dominance dynamics, and our evolved tendency to cease our sympathies at the boundaries of our tribe.”
― Francis Spufford

“Smoke rose from the barrel of the gun like a serpent crawling up from its wicker basket”
― Andrew Lennon, Family Man

“John Lennon once claimed that his band, The Beatles were more popular than Jesus. Lennon’s life paralleled Christ’s - both came from nothing, became figureheads of worldwide cults and changed the world. They also had premature, painful and undeserved deaths at the hands of others who envied and craved their abilities, influence and popularity. In the late Sixties, Lennon even seemed to adopt a Christ-like image with his long hair, beard and the various robes he started wearing, perhaps as a sly visual parody of his previous remarks.”
― Stewart Stafford

“I Am The Cobra by Stewart Stafford

A prisoner in his distant brain,
Drowning man courts stardom,
Became an ass in assassination,
A zilch begetting zilch ad infinitum.

Helicopter Christian and Satanist,
Cauliflower man, now a cabbage,
In judgement, cutting off phonies,
Blind to himself in lost daydreams.

In the cobra's deadly surprise strike,
The attacker's venom splashed back,
Bars in his head now physical restraints,
A malingering, slow death from snakebite.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Yours is the music that plays in heaven.”
― Anthony t hincks