Sara Sheridan Quotes
She wishes her grandmother had not been so protective, and that she understood better what passes between a man and woman. As it is, she simply enjoys the feelings and wonders if they are what lightning is made of, for everything comes back to the weather. Tears like rain. Smiles like the sun. Hair as dry as sand and fear like the dark ocean.
Quotes to Explore
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You have to be yourself.
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My target is to give everything, and only if we win the trophies will I be relaxed.
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Stasis is something that has marked my life since I was a boy growing up in Pittsburgh with my mother. It was the natural state that we existed in. For one thing, she suffered from a debilitating depression throughout my childhood, and depression is nothing if not static.
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My father didn't know his last name. My father got his last name from his grandfather, and his grandfather got it from his grandfather who got it from the slavemaster.
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No one in my family wrote. And there was no real introduction. I suppose I somehow blundered into it when I was about six or seven years old. I was asked what present I would like, and, without knowing why, I responded that I would like a journal. It was a beautiful journal - so beautiful that I didn't want to sully it.
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Germany is determined to provide substantial help. So are the Netherlands and other states. But a day will come when we have to count on our own resources.
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If anything is certain, it is that I myself am not a Marxist.
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I'm trying to make perfect moments. And those generate meaning. If you go deep enough in how to make a moment, very quickly you come to how narrative works - to what we are as a species, how we've come up with telling stories in scenes and images.
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Strange story about Degas. He hated women, didn't want to be with them. Yet he spent much of his life painting them. He had seen his father maltreat his mother, must have had a deep fear that he'd do the same thing.
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Government is the ultimate monopoly. And monopolies, as any economist will tell you, often breed complacency and a lack of innovation.
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Before I got married, I dated the gamut.
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It is a warning to all those who may think about becoming involved with a terrorist network, people who are willing to destroy their own lives are hard to deter.
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I've had some threaten not to give Communion to me, even though they don't know my position, just because I'm a Democrat. I've had cardinals refuse to shake my hand because I'm a Democrat.
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There's to be a film about my life. I can give this as an exclusive now. Meryl Streep was offered the part but, no, I wanted Kate Winslet. Kylie Minogue is playing me in middle age. In old age, I'm not sure who's going to play me. I haven't got there yet. Perhaps Cate Blanchett. Or Jacki Weaver.
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The corporations are shoving just the worst music down everybody's throats, and I think the result of that is that nobody has any taste. They have no bar as to what is good.
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Coming from Australia and playing rugby, you just think that soccer is a bit soft, but I'll tell you what - it's not. It's rough as guts. It's great.
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I don't believe in an afterlife, so I don't have to spend my whole life fearing hell, or fearing heaven even more. For whatever the tortures of hell, I think the boredom of heaven would be even worse.
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When I was a bad writer, I would consciously imitate other NPR writers who I thought were wonderful. I suppose that everyone's artistic practice is different. But I collaborate and sometimes don't agree at all with my collaborators' opinions. It forces you to understand why you don't agree with something: what's the fight you're picking.
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Considering the amount of information we're bombarded by, it's amazing if a song can transcend time.
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Good taste is the worst vice ever invented.
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Feminism is the result of a few ignorant and literal-minded women letting the cat out of the bag about which is the superior sex. Once women made it public that they could do things better than men, they were, of course, forced to do them.
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A man speaking sense to himself is no madder than a man speaking nonsense not to himself.
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She wishes her grandmother had not been so protective, and that she understood better what passes between a man and woman. As it is, she simply enjoys the feelings and wonders if they are what lightning is made of, for everything comes back to the weather. Tears like rain. Smiles like the sun. Hair as dry as sand and fear like the dark ocean.
