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Quote by Jeff Camhi

“From my book, Care for the Carer, An Alzheimer's Memoir "Is there a cure?" Jane asked repeatedly. This simple sentence had several possible meanings: Jeff, I'm slipping, hold me. Jeff, I'm sinking, save me. Jeff, I'm scared, protect me. I wanted to hug her or even to pick her up and rock her in my arms....to tell her "I'm here with you always," to admit to myself, "I'm scared too.”

Quote by Jeff Camhi

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Care for the Carer: An Alzheimer's Memoir

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Jeff Camhi

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“We hear about every other kind of women- beautiful women, smart women, sophisticated women, career women, talented women, divorced women. But so seldom do we hear of a godly woman - or of a godly man for that matter.....It is a much nobler thing to be a good wife than to be Miss America......it is a far, far better thing in the realms of morals to be old-fashioned than to be ultra modern. The world has enough women who know how to hold their cocktails, who have lost all their illusions and their faith..... the world has enough woman who know how to be brilliant. It needs some who will be brave. The World had enough woman who are popular. It needs more who are pure. We need women, and men, too, who would rather be morally right than socially correct. " Quote from Peter Marshall in the book Un Compromising”

“Yes, I was a queen of Faerie--- and I wished to appear so. To match. For where had I ever matched before? At Cambridge, yes--- I matched with the old stones, and the dusty libraries. I suppose that, in Faerie, I had wished to match with the Folk. A foolish aim indeed! I wondered at myself now. Yet I suppose that one cannot spend one's life half in love with Faerie without wishing to be part of it, to wonder if it might feel like home in a way no mortal place ever had.”

“As the eyes of the assembled Folk fell upon me, I realized that I had forgotten to change back into my queenly attire. I still had on my old shift and winter wellies, as if I were returned from fieldwork in the countryside. I was even more disheveled than usual from my adventure, for I had lost a bootlace somewhere along the way, and I did not even want to imagine what my hair looked like. My journal poked out of one pocket, my notebook another, and my fingertips were smudged with ink. I looked every inch a scholar, a none-too-reputable one at that, and not one millimetre a queen. And yet, somehow, this seemed barely to register on my audience. The Folk stared at me as much as Arna, with an avidity they had never displayed before. Perhaps it was the contrast I made with themselves, perhaps something else. The Folk respect power above most things, after all, and perhaps there was power in abandoning my fumbling attempts to please them, as if I were above it all, even if I did not feel that way. In any case, I was not used to commanding their attention, and on the whole was not certain I preferred it.”