Brad Alan Lewis Quotes
I led by three or four feet, with Biggy John Biglow surging closer on each stroke. I hated him in those last few seconds; he was the only reason my guts were being strewn over the water like an oil slick ... I pressed one last time, and looked at the finish-line flagman. In that instant the flag jumped down and then up. The up stroke, identifying the second place finisher, was for me. John Biglow was the victor. I stared into the green-brown water watching my bloody soul drop through the depths, slowly rocking back and forth, occasionally glinting in the light, and then finally disappearing.
Quotes to Explore
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Memory... is the diary that we all carry about with us.
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Our society wants things to grow, and our society wants things to become bigger and bigger. Everything has to be put under the spotlight.
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I grew up in a working-class Israeli family, which was feminist only in its female-dominated structure.
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For years I had lived in my body half-consciously, ignoring it mostly, dismissing its agendas wherever I could, and forever pressing it into the service of mental conceptions that resulted, almost as a by-product, sometimes in its pleasuring and sometimes in its abuse.
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We are quite at ease in this no man's land of ignorance and doubt and dispute, absorbed in the ambiguities of trying to reach truth by mixing fact with invention.
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Politicians make mistakes. People misspeak in public. God knows I have proven both. A lot.
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I can't speak for boys because I'm not one! But I just imagine they think differently.
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I have always been terrified of the death of my parents. I never knew if I could count on myself. I never knew if that would send me over the edge.
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It doesn't bother me because I can tell everyone to kiss off.
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I'm the kind of guy who really likes a challenge. It's more rewarding.
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Human history becomes more and more a race between education and catastrophe.
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Every child in America deserves high-quality health care.
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When I left Michigan and I came to New York, that was my goal, to be a professional dancer. And I sort of fell into singing by accident in a way.
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Loretta Lynn was one of those ladies a long time ago that opened a lot of doors and paved the way for a lot of ballsy singer-songwriters who weren't just cute.
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The cry for the national home for the Jews does not make much appeal to me. The sanction for it is sought in the Bible and the tenacity with which the Jews have hankered after return to Palestine. Why should they not, like other peoples of the earth, make that country their home where they are born and where they earn their livelihood?
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The powder is mixed with water and tastes exactly like powder mixed with water.
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Now, after you back it up? Then stop.
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Painting isn't a question of sensibility; it's a matter of seizing the power, taking over from nature, not expecting her to supply you with information and good advice.
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Night had come—night that she loved of all times, night in which the reflections in the dark pool of the mind shine more clearly than by day.
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Truth alone will endure, all the rest will be swept away before the tide of time. I must continue to bear testimony to truth even if I am forsaken by all. Mine may today be a voice in the wilderness, but it will be heard when all other voices are silenced, if it is the voice of Truth.
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The incomparable James Walvin has done it again: he has crafted a beautifully written and deeply informed single volume history of the Atlantic slave trade and its consequences on three continents. This book is full of fresh ideas and astounding detail; it is at once great storytelling, punctuated with real people and voices, and an unblinking analysis of numerous great questions and paradoxes about the power of slavery in creating the Atlantic world over four centuries.
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Part of the reason you see so little about this in the Western media is that Iraq was closed off from the outside world for so long under Saddam. But I think there's a deeper reason, which is that it messes with our assumptions - not just about Iraq, but about culture and human nature.
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I led by three or four feet, with Biggy John Biglow surging closer on each stroke. I hated him in those last few seconds; he was the only reason my guts were being strewn over the water like an oil slick ... I pressed one last time, and looked at the finish-line flagman. In that instant the flag jumped down and then up. The up stroke, identifying the second place finisher, was for me. John Biglow was the victor. I stared into the green-brown water watching my bloody soul drop through the depths, slowly rocking back and forth, occasionally glinting in the light, and then finally disappearing.
