We must err , do so on the side of audacity
When had my fear of broken plates gotten so grandiose? My desire for extravagant moments so small?
Knowing can be a curse on a person's life. I'd traded in a pack of lies for a pack of truth, and I didn't know which one was heavier.
Sometimes you want to fall on your knees and thank God in heaven for all the poor news reporting that goes on in the world.
Actually, you can be bad at something...but if you love doing it, that will be enough. - August Boatwright
We have to acknowledge sometimes that this moment is enough. This place is enough. I am enough.
I watched him, filled with tenderness and ache, wondering what it was that connected us. Was it the wounded places down inside people that sought each other out, that bred a kind of love between them?
You don't have to place your hand on Mary's heart to get strength and consolation and rescue, and all the other things we need to get through life. You can place it right here on your own heart. Your own heart.
Just to be is holy, just to live is a gift.
Standing there, I loved myself and I hated myself. That's what the black Mary did to me, made me feel my glory and my shame at the same time.
Drifting off to sleep, I thought about her. How nobody is perfect. How you just have to close your eyes and breathe out and let the puzzle of the human heart be what it is.
Look, I know you meant well creating the world and all, but how could you let it get away from you like this? How come you couldn't stick with your original idea of paradise? People's lives were a mess.
This is the autumn of wonders, yet every day, every single day, I go back to that burned afternoon in August when T. Ray left. I go back to that one moment when I stood in the driveway with small rocks and clumps of dirt around my feet and looked back at the porch. And there they were. All these mothers. I have more mothers than any eight girls off the street. They are the moons shining over me.
I wished she'd been smart enough, or loving enough, to realize everybody has burdens that crush them, only they don't give up their children.
A lot of time you write out of some unconscious place. I try to trust what is coming and where it wants to take me.
The world depends upon the small beating in your heart.
There's nothing like a song about lost love to remind you how everything precious can slip from the hinges where you've hung it so careful.
What matters is giving over to what you love.
You gotta imagine what's never been.
I'd forgotten how that sort of craving felt, how it rose suddenly and loudly from the pit of my stomach like a flock of startle birds, then floated back down in the slow, beguiling way of feathers.
This is what I know about myself. She was all I wanted. And I took her away.
I said, "If I was a Negro girl-" He placed his fingers across my lips so I tasted his saltiness. "We can't think of changing our skin," he said. "Change the world-that's how we gotta think."
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