I can't blame her. but wonder why she's here with me? where are the other guys? how can you be lucky? having someone the others have abandoned?
I can't blame her. but wonder ...
More phrases
Death is at any time blessed but it is twice blessed for a warrior who dies for his cause, that is, truth.
Knights of the spirit; warriors in the cause Of justice absolute 'twixt man and man.
Richard Watson Gilder
I was very lucky to have a mother who encouraged me to become a poet.
Philip Levine
I am lucky. I had a very beautiful mother.
Sophia Loren
When I got my first check I was thinking my mother and father didn't make this probably in their lifetime. It's real amazing that some of us are just blessed.
Dwyane Wade
Quotes from the same author
I grow tired of 18th century moralities in a 20th century space-atomic age
..few writers like other writers' works. The only time they like them is when they are dead or if they have been for a long time. Writers only like to sniff their own turds. I am one of those. I don't even like to talk to writers, look at them or worse, listen to them. And the worst is to drink with them, they slobber all over themselves, really look piteous, look like they are searching for the wing of the mother. I'd rather think about death than about other writers. Far more pleasant.
I could see the road ahead of me. I was poor and I was going to stay poor. But I didn't particularly want money. I didn't know what I wanted. Yes, I did. I wanted someplace to hide out, someplace where one didn't have to do anything. The thought of being something didn't only appall me, it sickened me . . . To do things, to be part of family picnics, Christmas, the 4th of July, Labor Day, Mother's Day . . . was a man born just to endure those things and then die? I would rather be a dishwasher, return alone to a tiny room and drink myself to sleep.
Daddy,' my mother asked, 'aren’t we going to run out of gas?' No there’s plenty of god-damned gas.' Where are we going?' I’m going to get some god-damed oranges!
my mother, poor fish, wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a week, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile! why don't you ever smile?" and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the saddest smile I ever saw
