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I Quotes

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All I Quotes

“It's 4am again and I'm just getting started. People are boring and I want to burn with excitement or anger and bleed, bleed through my words. I want to get all fucked up and write real and raw and ugly and beautifully. I bet you're sleeping safe and calm, and you can stay there, it's safer there, and you wouldn't stand one night on this journey my mind wanders off to every night you close your eyes. I'll stay here one day and I will never come down. I promise I can fly before I hit the ground. It doesn't even hurt anymore. I swear, it doesn't hurt.”

“It's 5:22pm you're in the grocery checkout line. Your three-year-old is writhing on the floor, screaming, because you have refused to buy her a Teletubby pinwheel. Your six-year-old is whining, repeatedly, in a voice that could saw through cement, "But mommy, puleeze, puleeze" because you have not bought him the latest "Lunchables," which features, as the four food groups, Cheetos, a Snickers, Cheez Whiz, and Twizzlers. Your teenager, who has not spoken a single word in the past foor days, except, "You've ruined my life," followed by "Everyone else has one," is out in the car, sulking, with the new rap-metal band Piss on the Parentals blasting through the headphones of a Discman. To distract yourself, and to avoid the glares of other shoppers who have already deemed you the worst mother in America, you leaf through People magazine. Inside, Uma thurman gushes "Motherhood is Sexy." Moving on to Good Housekeeping, Vanna White says of her child, "When I hear his cry at six-thirty in the morning, I have a smile on my face, and I'm not an early riser." Another unexpected source of earth-mother wisdom, the newly maternal Pamela Lee, also confides to People, "I just love getting up with him in the middle of the night to feed him or soothe him." Brought back to reality by stereophonic whining, you indeed feel as sexy as Rush Limbaugh in a thong.”

“It's a balancing act, keeping hope but not letting it drive you to distraction. Because the flip side of hope, the dark side, is the side that keeps you wanting to be somewhere else from where you are, with something else from what you've got-- the side that keeps you from appreciating and feeling fully and deeply what there is in this moment. Hope keeps us in the flow--moving forward-- and I will not underestimate its value, but hopelessness keeps us present in the moment, whether it is the Buddhist hopelessness of non-attachment or the hopelessness of despair.”

“It’s a beautiful moment when you finally shift into knowing something you have been believing. This 90-day adventure was that for me. I shifted into truly accessing all of this information I had read, believed and otherwise accepted as truth. Accessing the information, and exploring it, allowed me to live it firsthand. What was once simply an energy of thought has solidified into concrete truth. Into knowing.”

“It’s a beautiful smile. One that brightens the rat-infested attic room. No one has ever smiled like that at me. No one. Everything inside me twists with the need to keep her close. I should be pissed. Who knows if I’ll ever see the money from Eric. Who knows if Noah and I will lose the lease, sending me back into the system. Right now, I don’t f*cking care. I’m touching an angel.”

“It’s a beautiful thing to see a man put so much trust in his children; to put so much care into their emotional well-being, to build them up from the earliest stages, and motivate them. Most parents are stumped when it comes to their first-born, they are not sure what are the right and wrong things to do, but Mr. Ellison was a natural… He gave his first born everything he never had, and multiplied it with an excessive amount of love and still kept a company going—- face immeasurable amount of pressure and stress, as he said: “ It was the most traumatic period in my life.”

“It's a bird of some sort. It's like a duck, only I never saw a duck have so many colors." The bird swam swiftly and gracefully toward the Magic Isle, and as it drew nearer its gorgeously colored plumage astonished them. The feathers were of many hues of glistening greens and blues and purples, and it had a yellow head with a red plume, and pink, white and violet in its tail.”

“It’s a bit burned,” my mother would say apologetically at every meal, presenting you with a piece of meat that looked like something — a much-loved pet perhaps — salvaged from a tragic house fire. “But I think I scraped off most of the burned part,” she would add, overlooking that this included every bit of it that had once been flesh. Happily, all this suited my father. His palate only responded to two tastes - burned and ice cream — so everything suited him so long as it was sufficiently dark and not too startlingly flavorful. Theirs truly was a marriage made in heaven, for no one could burn food like my mother or eat it like my dad.”

“It's a bit like sympathetic magic in a way: the usual Western presumption that 'primitive' rituals mimic what they desire to achieve--that phallic objects might be believed to increase male potency and playacting rainfall might somehow bring it about. I am suspicious of such obvious connections and I suspect that the connections among things, people, and processes can be equally irrational. I sense the world might be more dreamlike, metaphorical, and poetic than we currently believe--but just as irrational as sympathetic magic when looked at in a typically scientific way. I wouldn't be surprised if poetry--poetry in the broadest sense, in the sense of a world filled with metaphor, rhyme, and recurring patterns, shapes, and designs--is how the world works. The world isn't logical, it's a song.”

“It's a bittersweet feeling to finally name what ails you after so long. On the one hand it's a relief because you can finally take action. On the other, endometriosis can feel overwhelming. There isn't enough useful information about it, nothing that encapsulates its all-encompassing nature or defines the all-involving path to recovery - except this book which is mind-blowingly relatable, relieving, and helpful.”

“It's a book that is set over 160 year ago. A lot has changed. A lot hasn't. We are only just beginning to appreciate exactly how a person's powerlessness may lead to struggles with their mental health. With our understanding, statics showing higher rates of mental illness in women, people of color and other disenfranchised groups become translated into truth. NOT a biological deficiency as doctors first thought. But a cultural creation that, if wanted to, we could do something about.”

“It's a book that says the same thing almost all the other books in the world say," continued the old man. "It describes people's inability to choose their own Personal Legends. And it ends up saying that everyone believes the world's greatest lie." "What's the world's greatest lie?" the boy asked, completely surprised. "It's this: that at a certain point in our lives, we lose control of what's happening to us, and our lives become controlled by fate. That's the world's greatest lie.”

“It’s a brief moment before the word is returned to the box of the irreversible, before it makes itself present with its flotilla of tragic predestinations. A regrettable loss, a true disaster. The life of a man. A young man, with enormous potential, intrepid, full of projects. A life in full bloom suddenly cut down by the bloodlust of the giantess, of this mineral titan indifferent to the fragility of mortals. Another existence reduced to the germinal point of senselessness, another proof of the pompous futility of human destiny. The young Sherpa feels terrible. He takes his eyes off the abyss.”