“Everybody’s got somewhere to go. Just takes some folks longer to figure out where to.”
“I guess it comes down to greed. You don’t pay folks, you make more money. That and thinking one race wasn’t as good as another.”
“What’s a quick fling in the sack compared to decades of indifference?”
“She wrote the phone number down on another slip of paper, rushed into the bathroom, crumpled up the letter, and flushed it down the toilet. For one paralyzing moment she envisioned federal law enforcement agents hiding somewhere in the White House intercepting her toilet water and reconstructing the letter. But that was impossible. That was the stuff of Orwell’s 1984. Yet in some ways, by living at the White House, she had already seen Orwell’s masterpiece of “fascism perfected” in a way most Americans could never imagine. She”
“When you love someone you got to be prepared to hate too.”
“Farming was a risky proposition under even the best of circumstances. Folks who toiled in the dirt could do everything right and a drought or an early freeze could come and wipe them out.”
“she glimpsed an aging man who had just lost everything and had no idea what he was supposed to be doing with the time he had left to live.”
“Based on my own experience, boys will mess with your heart and girls with your head.”
“thousand yards of this place.” “Who is she?”
“And asking people to take the time to read and actually think about stuff? Heaven forbid.”
“Issues. The dreaded word. It seemed so innocuous. Issues. Everyone had issues.”
“My mom said you always write thank-you letters, and besides, I wanted to.”
“The white men had basically crapped all over the only race that could call itself indigenous in America.”
“While it was true that the president of the United States was the world’s ultimate juggler of tasks, it was also a fact that the First Lady, traditionally, was no slouch in that department either.”
“When you didn’t have much, you tended to keep what you had.”
“engine, picked up the pages, ripped off the rubber band, and”
“I'm not afraid to compete. It's just the opposite. Don't you see that? I'm afraid I will compete — that's what scares me. That's why I quit the Theatre Department. Just because I'm so horribly conditioned to accept everybody else's values, and just because I like applause and people to rave about me, doesn't make it right. I'm ashamed of it. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody. I'm sick of myself and everybody else that wants to make some kind of a splash.”
“perhaps because this time not fear but love made him read.”
“Paradise
----------
A glowing dawn, a sweet, ripe peach,
A blue sea lapping on the beach.
A hint of spring, a dewy rose
Whose scent assails an eager nose.
Beauty now at every sight.
A feast for senses to delight.
A darkened cell, the fear of night,
A mistral blows with all its might.
A winter's chill in barren land,
The bitter cold through frozen hand.
Beauty now has closed its door.
And swept away for distant shore.
A touch of cheek, a lingered kiss
So soft remembered, soon to miss.
A tender arm around me thrown,
The beauty of a heart's true home.
In black despair, a shooting star,
For Paradise is where you are.”
“They will not struggle energetically against him, sometimes they will even applaud him; but they do not follow him. To his vehemence they secretly oppose their inertia, to his revolutionary tendencies their conservative interests, their homely tastes to his adventurous passions, their good sense to the flights of his genius, to his poetry their prose. With immense exertion he raises them for an instant, but they speedily escape from him and fall back, as it were, by their own weight. He strains himself to rouse the indifferent and distracted multitude and finds at last that he is reduced to impotence, not because he is conquered, but because he is alone.”
“There is a God part in you. The consciousness. The pure Self. Learn to listen the voice of that Power.”
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