Say to yourself: The world is full of money. Some of it has my name on it. All I have to do is collect it.
I want you forever, not just for tonight.
You, of all people, deserve a happy ending.
You know, the act of feeding someone is the ultimate act of care and affection. . . sharing yourself with someone else through food. He held another mouthful of cake under her nose. Think about it. We are fed in the Eucharist, by our mothers when we are infants, by our parents as children, by friends at dinner parties, by a lover when we feast on one another's bodies. . . and on occasion, on another's souls.
Love creates, it doesn't destroy.
Schools are generally feminine places, institutions where conformity is valued, taught largely by conformist women.
It is a game of chess with this city. We'll have to see how it is going to play out. The city goes back and forth trying to figure out what programs to cut and what they have funding for. What I would love to see is for the city to step up and run the rink 10 months out of the year so kids can play in the summer and we can have camps here in Glenwood.
Don't open your diamonds in a vegetable market. Tie them in bundle and keep them in your heart, and go your own way.
We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and our unstinting efforts, our most extravagant hopes. We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep--it's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself.