Concoct Quotes

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when-witnesses-concoct-lies-they-often-miss-obvious-john-grisham
when-you-die-others-who-think-they-know-you-will-concoct-things-about-you-better-pick-up-pen-write-it-yourself-for-you-know-yourself-best
ive-always-been-able-to-just-concoct-melody-quite-easily-its-just-kind-instinct-really-youve-got-to-channel-your-subconscious-florence-welch
do-you-really-know-yourself-well-are-you-making-it-up-she-asks-some-things-i-concoct-some-i-glean-from-my-senses-most-i-thirst-for-erri-de-luca
the-biblical-god-lets-us-make-our-own-history-goes-with-us-on-more-less-unheard-adventures-we-concoct-jacques-ellul
we-should-keep-in-mind-that-it-is-easy-to-concoct-stories-explaining-past-to-become-confident-about-dubious-scenarios-future-we-should-view-both-explanations-prophecies-with-skep
to-purposely-concoct-older-characters-sunny-disposition-would-be-as-much-solecism-as-deliberately-fabricating-arrhythmic-blacks-spendthrift-jews-slacker-japanese-on
it-may-be-roundly-asserted-that-human-ingenuity-cannot-concoct-cipher-which-human-ingenuity-cannot-resolve-edgar-allan-poe
they-dont-think-up-questions-like-that-on-basis-what-might-be-true-they-concoct-questions-on-basis-what-might-be-sensational-if-it-just-happened-to-be-true-walter-m-miller-jr
He's close enough now that I can hear his footfall on the pavement, and I know my chances of outrunning him are slim. I'm practically in a full sprint, and my pounding heart is begging me to take it down a notch. I try to will my feet to keep pace with its beat; but I think it's humanly impossible to run that fast. And then it dawns on me that my footsteps are the only ones I hear. Somewhere along the way, Tristan's must have come to a stop. And I can't quite explain why I'm running this fast in the first place. I slow to a jog, intending to just pick up with my original pace; but I can't seem to suck in breaths fast enough to propel my feet any further. My molten shoes stutter to a stop, as my hands come to rest on my knees. I'm still wheezily sucking in breath after breath of thick, humid air, when I warily turn to look over my shoulder. Tristan's standing about fifty feet back, hands on his hips and a completely flummoxed twist in his forehead, his chest rising and falling with equally winded gasps. Evidently I was running faster than I gave myself credit for. As he silently watches me, regaining his breath as I do mine, the confusion on his face turns to undeniable hurt (and not the physical kind). I've wounded him, and I can't even explain why. Man, I really am an ass. I start the slow walk of shame back to where he stands, one hand upon my hip as I pull in a few more calming deep breaths. I'm debating whether to concoct some excuse for my behavior... Maybe I left my contacts out today, and didn't recognize his face? Who would blame me for running for my life, if a stranger seemed to be following me? But as I amble closer-his wrinkled forehead already fading in the wake of a welcoming smile-I decide not to dig myself a deeper hole. I'm already a straight-up jerk. I'd rather not add lying to my repertoire.

M.A. George
hes-close-enough-now-that-i-can-hear-his-footfall-on-pavement-i-know-my-chances-outrunning-him-are-slim-im-practically-in-full-sprint-my-pounding-heart-is-begging-me-to-take-it-d
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