I remembered something somebody had once said to me. It's okay. Everyday is freshly ground.
Our great democracies still tend to think that a stupid man is more likely to be honest than a clever man.
The secret to happiness is to face the fact that the world is horrible.
Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth - more than ruin, more even than death. Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habits; thought is anarchic and lawless, indifferent to authority, careless of the well-tried wisdom of the ages. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. . . Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man.
We may define "faith" as the firm belief in something for which there is no evidence. Where there is evidence, no one speaks of "faith. " We do not speak of faith that two and two are four or that the earth is round. We only speak of faith when we wish to substitute emotion for evidence. The substitution of emotion for evidence is apt to lead to strife, since different groups, substitute different emotions.
Envy was one of the most potent causes of unhappiness.
I believe four ingredients are necessary for happiness: health, warm personal relations, sufficient means to keep you from want, and successful work.
Let me tell you what's really delicious about this [Donald] Trump announcement they're not gonna prosecute. They're also saying something else. They're saying, "No, we're gonna help [Hillary Clinton] heal. "
There is a strength, a power even, in understanding brokenness, because embracing our brokenness creates a need and desire for mercy, and perhaps a corresponding need to show mercy. When you experience mercy, you learn things that are hard to learn otherwise. You see things you can't otherwise see; you hear things you can't otherwise hear. You begin to recognize the humanity that resides in each of us.
Blood Dazzler is Patricia Smith's impassioned lyric chronicle of a beloved city in peril, a city whose people were left to die before us all, a people who were the heart of our country and lifeblood of our culture. After rising water, winds and abandonment, after our failure and neglect, comes this symphony of utterance from the ruins: many-voiced, poignant, sorrowful and fierce. This is poetry taking the full measure of its task.
Feminism is a good venue for getting yourself across as much as for getting your point across.