Okay, by popular demand (well, maybe not popular….maybe just one person *bg*), I am creating a page for previous quotes. But it will get reeeeally long over time, I warn you! 🙂
|I have learned that people will forget what you said, forget what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel.
— Dr. Maya Angelou
|People are like stained glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within.
— Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
|Money makes people rich; it is a fallacy to think it makes them better, or even that it makes them worse. People are what they do, and what they leave behind.
— Terry Pratchett
|Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.
— Neil Gaiman
|My concern is not that the world is full of bad art…which I’m not even sure it is…my concern is that there are all kinds of people in the world who believe somehow that this — our greatest shared human inheritance — the right to participate in creation, the right to become a person who is unfolding, the right to look for the jewels that are hidden within you, the right to leave a footprint on the world — that that only belongs to the elite, the trained, the professional and the tormented.
A creative life is any life that is guided more by curiosity than by fear. Period. Because that will give you a creative life: if you routinely, habitually — not just once, twice, three times, but routinely and habitually make a practice out of it, make a RELIGION out of it. Making sure you’re always following your curiosity above your fear.
— Elizabeth Gilbert
|The early bird gets the worm – which is what he deserves.
You have to be going to a pretty awful place if getting there is half the fun.
— Miss Piggy
On June 23, 1942, there was a group of French Jews in a German prison, on Polish soil. The first person I took was close to the door, his mind racing, then reduced to pacing, then slowing down, slowing down…
Please believe me when I tell you that I picked up each soul that day as if it were newly born. I even kissed a few weary, poisoned cheeks. I listened to their last, gasping cries. Their vanishing words. I watched their love visions and freed them from their fear.
I took them all away, and if ever there was a time I needed distraction, this was it. In complete desolation, I looked at the world above. I watched the sky as it turned from silver to gray to the color of rain. Even the clouds were trying to get away.
Sometimes I imagined how everything looked above those clouds, knowing without question that the sun was blond, and the endless atmosphere was a giant blue eye.
They were French, they were Jews, and they were you.
His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do — the best ones. The ones who rise up and say, “I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come.” Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out. More of them have already found their way to other places.
— Markus Zusak,
|Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.
— Margaret Mead
|I fell in love — that is the only expression I can think of — at once, and am still at the mercy of words, though sometimes now, knowing a little of their behavior very well, I think I can influence them slightly and have learned to beat them now and then, which they appear to enjoy.
— Dylan Thomas
|Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world really needs is more people who have come alive.
— Howard Thurman
|At the end of the day, at the end of the week, at the end of my life, I want to be able to say that I contributed more than I criticized.
— Brene Brown
|Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change.
— Brene Brown, TED talk on shame
|A mantra to help you set boundaries: Choose discomfort over resentment.
— Brene Brown, on Super Soul Sunday
|Every generation thinks that they’re the smartest. And in a way that’s true, because younger people know the most about the things that change. But in a way older people are the wisest, because they know the most about the things that do not change.
— Marianne Williamson, on Super Soul Sunday
|We are all continually asked to learn how to ask for what we need, only to practice accepting what we are given.
— Mark Nepo, on Super Soul Sunday
|She could never go back and make some of the details pretty. All she could do was move forward and make the whole beautiful.
— Terri St. Cloud
|War is God’s way of teaching Americans geography.
— Ambrose Bearse
|Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get — only with what you are expecting to give — which is everything.
— Katherine Hepburn
|If you can’t be a good example, then you’ll just have to be a horrible warning.
— Catherine Aird
|“Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.”
(Latin: Don’t let the bastards grind you down.)
|I pray….My God. Who Art in the Kingdom of Heaven, which is within…..I wish I knew what You were up to. But whatever it is, help me to get through it, please. Though maybe it’s not Your doing; I don’t believe for an instant that what’s going on out there is what You meant.I have enough daily bread, so I won’t waste time on that. It isn’t the main problem. The problem is getting it down without choking on it. Now we come to forgiveness. Don’t worry about forgiving me right now. There are more important things. For instance: keep the others safe, if they are safe. Don’t let them suffer too much. If they have to die, let it be fast. You might even provide a Heaven for them. We need You for that. Hell we can make for ourselves.|
|Better? I say, in a small voice. How can he think this is better? Better never means better for everyone, he says. It always means worse, for some.|
|I don’t want her to be like me. Give in, go along, save her skin. That is what it comes down to. I want gallantry from her, swashbuckling, heroism, single-handed combat. Something I lack.
|“Why do people say ‘grow some balls’? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you wanna be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding.”
–Sheng Wang, comedian
|“…D’you know its a great thing being a eunuch as I am: that is not knowing what’s the right side of a skirt: women confide in one. One pulls a shade over the fury of sex; and then all the veins and marbling, which, between women, are so fascinating, show out. Here in my cave I see lots of things you blazing beauties make invisible by the light of your own glory.”
–Virginia Woolf to Vita Sackville-West, 1/3/27
“The book that one is writing at the moment is really the most intimate part of one, and the part about which one preserves the strictest secrecy. What is love or sex, compared with the intensity of the life one leads in one’s book? A trifle; a thing to be shouted from the hill-tops.”
–Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf, 7/24/29
Civilization is a stream with banks. The stream is sometimes filled with blood from people killing, stealing, shouting and doing things historians usually record, while on the banks, unnoticed, people build homes, make love, raise children, sing songs, write poetry.
The story of civilization is the story of what happened on the banks. Historians are pessimists because they ignore the banks for the river.
Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter which fork you use.
He hadn’t realized that life speaks with a voice to you, a voice that brings you answers to the questions you continually ask of it, had never consciously detected it or recognized its tones till it now said something it had never said to him before, which was “Yes.”
Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.
–Edna St. Vincent Millay
|“…like so many others now and in moments past, I’ve learned that this is not just something we care about for a year or two or three. We are in it for life — and for our lives. Not even the spiral of history is needed to show the distance traveled. We have only to look back at the less complete people we ourselves used to be. And that is the last Survival Lesson: we look at how far we’ve come, and then we know — there can be no turning back.”|
|“Somewhere in our lives, each of us needs a free place, a little psychic territory. Do you have yours?”|
“It doesn’t matter if you love the people society says you should love, or do or don’t have children with more than one of them. It doesn’t matter if you have money, go to church, or obey the law. What matters is that you are not cruel or wasteful; that you don’t keep the truth from those who need it, suppress someone’s will or talent, take more than you need from nature, or fail to use your own talent and will.”
|An English poet, Philip Larkin, said that poetry doesn’t start with an idea; it starts with a poem….You have to be open to mystery. If you are open to it, mystery will come. If you’re not, why should it, actually?
You don’t choose a story, it chooses you. You get together with that story somehow; you’re stuck with it. There certainly is some reason it attracted you, and you’re writing it trying to find out that reason.
–Robert Penn Warren
Being a writer is like having homework every night for the rest of your life.
|…No person is your friend (or kin) who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow and be perceived as fully blossomed as you were intended. Or who belittles in any fashion the gifts you labor so to bring into the world.
|It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day to day basis.
|If you cannot be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
I realized what a terrorist is. A terrorist, I think, is simply another kind of pornographer. The pornographer pretends he is disgusted by his work; the terrorist pretends he is uninterested in the means. The ends, they say, are what they care about. But they are both lying….It is never the ends that matter — it is only the means that matter. The terrorist and the pornographer are in it for the means. The means is everything to them. The blast of the bomb, the elephant position, the Schlagobers and blood — they love it all. Their intellectual detachment is a fraud; their indifference is feigned. They both tell lies about having “higher purposes.” A terrorist is a pornographer.
The Hotel New Hampshire
I liked the way you wanted me every night for so long, baby
I liked the way you needed me every time when things got rocky
I was believing in you
Was I mistaken?
Do you say… do you say what you mean?
I want our love to last forever
But I’d rather you be mean than love and lie
I’d rather hear the truth and have to say goodbye
I’d rather take a blow, at least then I would know
But, baby, don’t you break my heart slow
–Vonda Shepherd/James Newton Howard
Baby Don’t You Break My Heart Slow
Poor Eddie O’Hare! What had befallen him was most unkind: the bewildering illusion that he was now in love with the daughter of the only woman he’d ever loved! But who can distinguish between falling in love and imagining falling in love? Even genuinely falling in love is an act of the imagination.
A Widow for One Year
Never eat more than you can lift.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
“Do you believe in love?” he said.
Sometimes I believe that love dies but hope springs eternal. Sometimes I believe that hope dies but love springs eternal. Sometimes I believe that sex plus guilt equals love, and sometimes I believe that sex plus guilt equals good sex. Sometimes I believe that love is as natural as the tides, and sometimes I believe love is an act of will. Sometimes I believe that some people are better at love than others, and sometimes I believe that everyone is faking it.
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”