“He ambled towards the abyss again,Acquiescing to the adroit turns of his Abtenauer, his Altai horse, his Appaloosa,His Ardennais, and his Australian Brumby…..Agilely each equine adumbrates the aestheticsOf aestivating, much like aficionados of natureAnd much like ailurophiles, too……Ambrosial aromas attract his attention to theAssemblage of amaranth foliage growingAt the abyss’s edge. “Anglophile!” “Antediluvian!”“Aplomb!” “Apocryphal!” “Apophenia!” “Apothecary!”Each petal calls out to him as he captures their vision in hisAqueous humor. Now an arabesque they display, Then some archipelago formation, as they (those purple perennials)Give in to the Wind’s whimsy. “What’s in my arsenal?” He asks himself.“Do I have Authenticity, like Astrophysics and Astronomy?”“Am I at last in my Autumn, torn asunder by Avarice?Shall I now step toward Winter to wither and waste away, without rebirth?”The Summer’s azure skies call him back, reminding him of his herd.Homeward he must turn. The pony pushes him back to the plain.And, as he trudges away from the abyss, the warriors of darkness—His old battle buddies who left him behind as they raced toward Providence—Rattle in his mind with their Paleolithic war toys, on the war path, chanting:“The greatest battles we face are in the silent chambers of our own souls…..”-----from the poem 'Summer Battle' in the book HOT STUFF: CELEBRATING SUMMER'S SIMMER AND SIZZLE, by Mariecor Ruediger”

“"Your king did not break through with me until his touch stopped taking and started giving and until, in our cham, he treated me with kindness. He is the mightiest of Suh Tunak, recognized the battle he had on his hands, analyzed it, created his strategy and then he went about winning that battle using any means necessary. And, Zahnin," I edged closer and for the sake of this man who pledged to guard me even if it meant giving his life, who backed me against Dortak and who clearly wanted his wife to settle in her new life with him in his cham, I admitted to him at the same time I admitted to myself, "My Lahn won that battle. I now lay awake at night waiting for him to return. When he does not, I fall asleep looking forward to the morning when he will wake me with his hands. He is my King, He is my Warrior, He is my Husband and I am proud to say above all...He is MINE." ”

“He has two antagonists: the first presses him from behind, from the origin. The second blocks the road ahead. He gives battle to both. To be sure, the first supports him in his fight with the second, for he wants to push him forward, and in the same way the second supports him in his fight with the first, since he drives him back. But it is only theoretically so. For it is not only the two antagonists who are there, but he himself as well, and who really knows his intentions? His dream, though, is that some time in an unguarded moment and this would require a night darker than any night has ever been yet he will jump out of the fighting line and be promoted, on account of his experience in fighting, to the position of umpire over his antagonists in their fight with each other.”

“His own past kept flying up around him like moths; old fears back again, the ghosts’ problems only serving to remind him of his own. Even the little anxieties that nipped at his heels as a boy were back now as sharp-toothed dogs, following him, barking loudly, drawing more and more attention to themselves. Now, as he looked for his dad, Silas felt like he had as a boy: left behind, alone, forgotten. And he could see, now, his personal feelings made his encounters with the dead and his travels through their lands dangerous and filled with the possibility of entrapment.”

“[Kirk] paced back toward his command chair, all eyes on him. "He must have a weakness.""Certainly," Chekov said. "Is he not basically humanoid? He could be poisoned, phasered, stabbed-"Kirk sneered. "Without killing him, Ensign."With a shrug, Chekov turned quietly back to his console, pulling his hands from his lap and placing them on the controls.”

“Sean settles swiftly behind me, and I'm startled by the sudden closeness of him, my back suddenly warm against his chest, the press of his hips on against me. i turn to ask him a question, and he jerks his face away from the proximity of mine. I say, "Oh. Sorry.”