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Naomi Shihab Nye Biography

Naomi Shihab Nye

Naomi Shihab Nye (Arabic: نعومي شهاب ناي‎), (born March 12, 1952) is a poet, songwriter, and novelist. She was born to a Palestinian father and an American mother. Although she calls herself a "wandering poet", she refers to San Antonio as her home. She says a visit to her grandmother in the West Bank village of Sinjil was a life-changing experience. Nye was the recipient of the 2014 NSK Neustadt Prize for Children's Literature.

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Naomi Shihab Nye Quotes

Poetry calls us to pause. There is so much we overlook, while the abundance around us continues to shimmer, on its own.

Abundance, Shimmer, Pauses, Overlook, Pause

Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth.

Kindness, Salt, Moments, Broth, Lose

I think the job of writing and literature is to encourage each one of us to believe that we're living in a story.

Believe, Job, Jobs, Living, Writing

What did exclusivity ever have to offer but a distorted, unrealistic view of the world? People who stuck only to their own kind were scared people.

Exclusivity, Groups, Offer, People, Views

Being alive is a common road. It's what we notice makes us different.

Different, Alive, Common

I do think that all of us think in poems.

Poems, Think, Thinking

Peter Conners stunning prose poems are packed with keen sensitivity, dreaminess, and wit. I love his time travels, the vibrant layering of image and detail. Try taking walks as you are reading this book- the dazzle of landscapes, inner and outer, feel replenished and rich. This is language and vision I want to come home to again and again.

Reading, Book, Home, Layering, Stunning, Vision

I am looking for the human who admits his flaws Who shocks the adversary By being kinder not stronger What would that be like? We don't even know

Stronger, Flaws, Shock, Shocks, Looking

Later our dreams begin catching fire around the edges, they burn like paper, we wake with our hands full of ash.

Ash, Dream, Edges, Fire, Hands, Wake

Since there is no place large enough to contain so much happiness, you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you into everything you touch. You are not responsible. You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it, and in that way, be known.

Moon, Night, Hands, Take, Sky, Happiness

why are we so monumentally slow?

Monumentally, Slow

We start out as little bits of disconnected dust.

Bits, Disconnected, Dust, Littles

During the Gulf War, I remember two little third grade girls saying to me - after I read them some poems by writers in Iraq - 'You know, we never thought about there being children in Iraq before. ' And I thought, 'Well those poems did their job, because now they'll think about everything a little bit differently. '

Children, Everything, Girl, Jobs, Saying, Writers

only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say it is I you have been looking for, and then goes with you everywhere like a shadow or a friend.

Kindness, Shadow, World, Raises, Like, Say

I love the solitude of reading. I love the deep dive into someone else's story, the delicious ache of a last page.

Book, Inspirational, Love, Page, Reading

Today you will say things you can predict and other things you could never imagine this minute. Don't reject them, let them come through when they're ready, don't think you can plan it al out. This day will never, no matter how long you live, happen again. It is exquisitely singular. It will never again be exactly repeated.

Exactly, Exquisitely, Long, Matter, Thinking, Today

Because sometimes I live in a hurricane of words and not one of them can save me.

Hurricane, Hurricanes, Save, Save Me, Sometimes, Words

I have always loved the gaps, the spaces between things, as much as the things. I love staring, pondering, mulling, puttering. I love the times when someone or something is late-there's that rich possibility of noticing more, in the meantimePoetry calls us to pause. There is so much we overlook, while the abundance around us continues to shimmer, on its own.

Space, Things I Love, Gaps, Pause, Shimmer

Getting over what you did to me is not why I get out of bed anymore.

Anymore, Bed

If a teacher told me to revise, I thought that meant my writing was a broken-down car that needed to go to the repair shop. I felt insulted. I didn't realize the teacher was saying, 'Make it shine. It's worth it. ' Now I see revision as a beautiful word of hope. It's a new vision of something. It means you don't have to be perfect the first time. What a relief!

Beautiful, Mean, Revision, Teacher, Time

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