Galapagos tortoise,” she said. “I’m one hundred and seven years old.” “Huh. And you don’t look a day over a hundred and five,” I said.
I won’t lie to you. I can’t say why God would take her now. But if the fact that she was sent here among us doesn’t point toward a loving God, then I can’t help you.
I wish I could explain what I’d give just to see you smile again.” How about your head on a stick?
He was 90 percent image, and the most you want is 50 percent because the other 50 percent must be a musical talent.
Kindness. Respect. Compassion. Empathy. You never know how these simple, small acts can help someone turn their life around.
You have got to decide: either you die with Stuart or you go on living your life,” John tells Astrid. “Be honest and decide. You can’t just cry all the time, you’ve got to get on.”16.
The library will remain the school’s number one information resource center, where everybody is free to study anything and everything they want.
George, though, brings back some daunting intelligence after a September 1963 visit to Benton, Illinois, where his sister, Louise, lives. “They don’t know us,” he reports. “It’s going.
But being mentally ill wasn’t like drowning, even if it sometimes felt like it. Because the thing about drowning is that someone else can save you, whether you want them to or not. And the thing about struggling with mental illness is that you have to be part of saving yourself.
American violence mirrors that of my home country. And the laws here, much like where I was born, seem to favor criminals and not victims. Criminals get released very quickly.
Thomas Merton stayed at the abbey for twenty-seven years. His autobiography.
I love this snarky line about critics. It comes from the English playwright John Osborne: “Asking a working writer how he feels about critics is like asking a lamppost what it feels about dogs.
The day, and it was a day, that writing started to be fun for me, the day things began to really click, was the day I stopped trying to write sentences and started writing stories.
Asking for help is empowering. It makes you stronger. More respected, not less.
Using words to de-escalate a situation is always ideal. No cop wants a physical altercation.
I do have a statement to make after all,” I said. “I agree with my kids one hundred and fifty percent. Good-bye, everyone. And before I forget, up yours – each and every one of you – with a hockey stick.
Grades don’t make the man, the man makes the grade.
Most people go out every day who wear a badge and they really try to do the best they can and try to help as many people as possible.
Juliana, thirteen; Brian, twelve; Jane, eleven; Ricky, ten; Eddie, nine; twins Fiona and Bridget, eight; Trent, six; Shawna, five; and Chrissy, four. A total of ten, count them: two Hispanic, two black, one Asian, and the rest white. All of them are adopted. Pretty impressive, I know.
Here’s the best I’ve come up with about recovering from the death of somebody we love. It goes like this. When we’re little, maybe one or so, we learn how to walk. Somehow we figure out how to get up on our two feet and take a scary step forward. Maybe we fall down. But we get up again. We take another step. We move forward. We move on. We just don’t forget.
Revenge is a dish best served cold. I have to admit, it is a tasty dish. Play Hard or Go Home GROWING UP, I had zero interest in being a writer.