Quotes Short Poems Novels & Stories

With grad school entrance exams (GRE) looming, everyone was stressed out of their minds when Preston Lewis, the class heartthrob, announced that he'd secured a spot that let him skip the written exam entirely. He even promised he could get the same deal for everyone else. The whole class erupted in cheers and immediately launched into an excited debate over which universities they should choose. But something didn't seem right to me. I moved closer for a look and saw that the screen Preston was showing everyone was just an AI chatbot, Novi. I tried to warn them that Novi was only a chatbot, but my girlfriend, Carly Monroe, shoved me before I could finish. "Anders, you're just mad because

The poem went this way, Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I did not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uprising rush Oh quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.

To her dismay, Jane found herself walking down the hall to English with Lucy by her side, still talking, talking, talking. "I didn't know you were such a big reader, Jane," Lucy said, smiling at her. "I guess because your book-report books are always so short. But length isn't what matters in a book. I love a lot of short books, too. Just look at poetry. A poem can be any length. There are millions of wonderful poems that are only a few lines long. Like Emily Dickinson's poems. She can say more in two lines than most people can say in a hundred pages. What part are you up to in A Tale of Two Cities?"

Then, I said, "You can just pour them down the drain." I hung up after that. The final dark spot in my life had been erased, and I felt light-hearted and free.

She was squatting on the ground, and it appeared as if she was digging through the dirt? Sharon walked over in a puzzled manner and heard her mother reciting two lines of a poem, “The flower that smiles today, tomorrow dies; all that we wish today, tempts and then flies…”

She asked I suddenly remembered the small poem in the book I have shared with Lea "Think of me, our time might come to an end. In a blink, you might be blind to see me." "I am on the brink of the cliff, can you catch me? I am shrinking, will you see me?" "In a wink, there's only one eye. In a heart, there's only one side" I haven't given attention to it but, it did affect me. Little did I know, it was the end

You are special, very special to me. My joyful girl, you inspire me to write. How I love the way you laugh, speak and hug, Invading my mind day and through the night, Always dreaming about the unknown future. Let me compare you to a cat? You are more playful, passionate, and at the same time calm. Big frost nips the robins of December, And wintertime has the gorgeous wine palm. How do I love you? Let me count the ways. I love your skillful hands, warm worlds, and safe arms.