Surely mortal man is a broomstick!
I am a stranger to half measures.
Surviving and believing in tomorrow is just a habit I can't break.
Imagination bound us stronger than love. Within its limitless borders we launched ships and love affairs, discovered lost worlds, made buildings and babies, found husbands, wrote letters and Broadway plays. We made ourselves up everyday.
My mother used to do all the things that were important to her after midnight. . . . Sometimes I'd sneak downstairs and see her knitting, or reading, or writing letters. I'd think of her as a thief, stealing the tail end of the day, the hours nobody else wanted or used.
Racism is a virus. And since nobody's really looking too hard for a cure it reproduces itself over and over again.
I quickly learned that motherhood was a high wire act sometimes performed without a net.
Munificent nature follows the methods of the divine and true, and rounds all things to her perfect law. While nations are convulsed with blood and violence, how quietly the grass grows.
I came to the conclusion that the optimist thought everything good except the pessimist, and that the pessimist thought everything bad, except himself.
Our country doesn't depend on the heroism of every citizen. But all of us should be worthy of the sacrifices made on our behalf.
There's always the possibility that you're going to come across a record that transforms your life. And it happens weekly. It's like a leaf on the stream. There are little currents and eddies and sticks lying in the water that nudge you in a slightly different direction. And then you break loose and carry on down the current. There's nothing that actually stops you and lifts you out of the water and puts you on the bank but there are diversions and distractions and alarums and excursions which is what makes life interesting really. It's fantastic.