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Why do women ever want their hair long, she couldn't understand. It’s why I, and maybe you became an art curator. We know what we like and what we don’t. “Why are you doing this?” Samantha said. “Because I care for you. I want to see you happy.

got back from Ethiopia where I recorded stories in which spirits were rampant, I’ve been wondering why And yet why does science not acknowledge anything is there? I think I might have a hypothesis. And why wouldn’t these spiritual experiences be able to be reproducible?

If the one who is working against me sees something worth fearing in me, why should I be afraid? Maybe that is why my enemy haunts me with this. That is why I will not be afraid of myself. I can trust Him to lead me true.

me think that although sometimes we think Peace is the ultimate ethic, and that anything that causes suffering

too much or disciplining too little, overworking, eating too much, or giving myself too little sleep, why

Your eyes will be bright, and she won’t ask why the blinds are always down, or why there are pictures

Why would I want to?!” But then you get this cute, eager teenager apply for a job. And they’d ask me how, and I’d have to say I gave her a key, and they’d ask why was I at the store with

And maybe partly why he came was because some perspectives of God have been hijacked by glory-hungry I mean, why wouldn’t they? Maybe this is why some of us think God just seems brutal and unfair! Come on in, and uh, why don’t you make me some soup for lunch, if you really want to make me happy.”

Why is this applicable to me? And this is what it is, I think. “I really want you guys to obey me.” I got so frustrated and was like, Dude, God, why all the fuss, man? If so, why on earth would He be acting like this?

Why does the reality of this omelet exist in a pocket of my brain that seems so separate from, and unaffected

And that's partly why he had reached out to Samantha. That's why I needed to tell you right now. I haven't even thought it through. Then why would he take them?" John gestured up the stands. "I don't know."

My friend Paigey, who also has a November birthday, suffers from the same sentiment, and aptly put it everything she owns fits in a backpack; she profoundly appreciates her friends and family; and Paigey has suffered Her mother, moved with compassion, saw that Paige’s suffering was too great for words, and so instead