You begin saving the world by saving one man at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.
You begin saving the world by ...
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Many sports, not just football, have kind of the macho meathead mentality where innovation is almost frowned upon.
Lawrence Jackson
This is ideological colonization. They colonize people with ideas that try to change mentalities or structures, but this is not new. This was done by the dictatorships of the last century.
The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.
Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed. It is the only thing that ever has.
To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.
Henri Bergson
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
