Giver And Sustainer Quotes & Sayings

I do hope to die with a quiet heart . I know that may not be realistic. — Marilynne Robinson

I grew up in China, but I live in the U.S. and I want my children to understand what's going on over there. They ask me sometimes, 'Are we Chinese or Australians?' My family are in L.A., New York and China, and they have the freedom to go back and forth, which is really, really nice. — Wendi Deng Murdoch

We all know exactly what we love, and woe is you if you're on the other side. — Jen Lancaster

Despite her ability to enjoy most of their days, sometimes her despair was so great that, in a melancholy moment when she'd allow herself to think of her family, she'd almost stop breathing — Melina Marchetta

Two people can form a community by excluding a third. — Jean-Paul Sartre

I dream my poems
and write my dreams.
We can only write our own dreams,
not the dreams of others,
for our dreams speak from our hearts.
For those who do not dream poems,
how can they know what dreams
their hearts want to write? — Jeffrey A. White

What's wrong with leading the way? We've played that role before, after all. We gave the world the secret ballot ... that did so much to raise living standards and improve conditions for workers worldwide. We were a leader in extending to women the right to vote. We were barely a nation when we set the bar for bravery and sacrifice by common soldiers in foreign wars. We grew up out of racism and misogyny and homophobia to become a mostly tolerant, successful multicultural society. We did these great things because we know we are in it together. It is our core value as Australians. — Geraldine Brooks

The priest read his thing. I didn't listen. There was the coffin. What had been Betty was in there. It was very hot. The sun came down in one yellow sheet. A fly circled around. Halfway through the halfway funeral two guys in working clothes came carrying my wreath. The roses were dead, dead and dying in the heat, and they leaned the thing up against a nearby tree. Near the end of the service my wreath leaned forward and fell flat on its face. Nobody picked it up. Then it was over. — Charles Bukowski