Olhava Poulsbo Quotes & Sayings

I always wonder if my kids will say they're mixed or black. — Gary Owen

It eases my soul that I share a house with [Cassandra King] a novelist of such rare and distinctive gifts. — Pat Conroy

However we select from nature a complex [of phenomena] using the criterion of simplicity, in no case will its theoretical treatment turn out to be forever appropriate (sufficient) ... I do not doubt that the day will come when [general relativity], too, will have to yield to another one, for reasons which at present we do not yet surmise. I believe that this process of deepening theory has no limits. — Albert Einstein

The cynics in life are the people who are always trying to do things for people who don't want things done for them. — Marianne Moore

A knock sounds on the door.
"Who is it?" Matt yells, exasperated.
"Your father."
"What do you want?"
"Can you mow the lawn tomorrow after church?"
"Daaaaaaaad." Matt's shaking his head and laughing. My mouth has dropped open. "Couldn't you have waited until after Kate goes home to ask me?"
"I didn't want to forget," Mr. Brown says from behind the door.
Matt whispers to me, "This is his way of saying we shouldn't be in here alone together."
I nod.
Matt yells to his dad, "Fine, I'll mow the lawn. Now go away."
I smack his chest.
"What?" Matt asks, clutching my hands so I can't hit him again.
"You shouldn't treat your dad that way."
"I like her," Mr. Brown says from out in the hallway.
"Daaaaadd, stop eavesdropping!" Matt jumps to his feet and grabs his keys from the nightstand. "That's it, I'm taking you home. We'll never find any peace around here."
I can't stop laughing. — Miranda Kenneally

I've always felt kind of like an outsider, even when I was very successful back in the old days. Even then. I kind of enjoyed it, really. — Nick Lowe

He was a man of moods, yet he was her constant, something unchanging, infinitely reliable, the pivot of her life. There could never be anyone else. Without him she would not be more than half alive. — Winston Graham

There is a river whose waters give
immortality; somewhere there must be
another river whose waters take it away. The
number of rivers is not infinite; an immortal
traveler wandering the world will someday have
drunk from them all. — Jorge Luis Borges