Everybody dies. It’s no risk to lose your life. You knew it was lost from the beginning.
I had always been a boy in this place, and many of the trees and rocks and streams had been old men when I knew them. Some had died. All had changed. I knew that. I had changed the most.
The world bein’ so small ain’t always a good thing for those of us who ain’t searchin’ for new and different stuff.
One of the worst things I’ve learned about getting older is that there seems to be more change that you don’t like than there was when you were younger and you can’t do nothin’ about it.
If the forest has a day of fire and the heat of the flames does not consume a special tree, it will still be changed; charred, but still standing.
The gear teeth of his mind, the cogs of the brain’s machinery that propelled his thoughts, were grinding to a halt, too long forced to fight against the friction of agony without the aid of hope, the lubricant for the soul.
You can be spiritual all by yourself. Everybody has a soul. But to be religious, it seems like you need other people, and then sometimes it becomes more about the people than the soul.
Porches could be cleaned with a broom in a few minutes, but the soul could not be swept. It had to be shaken. And shaking the loess from a soul took a lifetime and more strength than most people had.
It remains for you to save one before saving others, to lead one before leading others.
Reading had always been, through bad, boring, or better times, his best connection to humans.
If all you do is think about what you need, you’re no better than an animal in the woods, and no smarter either. To be human, you’ve got to want. It makes you smarter and stronger.
Devotion to self is necessary. First, place the mask on yourself and breathe deeply. Then help the others. If you don’t save yourself, they will die.
Just make sure the day doesn’t pass without sayin’ what’s in your heart. Sometimes you pass up those chances and they’re gone forever.
There are struggles you cannot win, but a man can meet his own heart if value is found in loss. Give yourself permission to cry.
We are born among relatives. Family is defined by loyalty.
Some people get what they want because they grab the power and swing it, and some people don’t.
Politics is all about dividing up the power. Washington D.C. likes to talk about spreading the wealth, but never spreading the power.
The power of our country relies on the character that comes out of each of our homes.
Our bird of hope was being denied the altitude it sought, just free enough to fly dangerously close to the reality of the treetops.
A government that thinks it can remedy personal failure is an intrusion in everybody’s life. No law is going to cure a human’s lack of physical or mental effectiveness. I’d rather see democracy promote strength than reward weakness.
As an adult I had mastered the art of looking without seeing and listening without hearing and eating without tasting and maybe even existing without living.
Being tough today might cause you to be weak in the future.
Sometimes, you need to spit stuff out in words to get it better arranged in your head. I figure if you never talk about it, it just picks its own spot and lays there and festers.
I wonder if God hears prayers if the only time you make them is when you’re in trouble.
The bones of the oak tree that had stood by the spring branch during my youth were scattered about the ground, pieces of the skeleton of a majestic life that had passed while I was off growing up and old.
I am not wise enough to know if there is ever purpose in tragedy, if there is ever virtue in resisting it. If it cannot be overcome, then grief has beaten you, and you are right to say so.
What a wonderful sadness to miss the one you have loved forever, it seems, and know that she is waiting at home.
He knew that prejudice was a necessary part of the weak spirit of some men.
Time does not heal, but it can liberate. A race run well can never be lost.
Doing without will wear on you until temptation is stronger than character, sometimes.
Evil won’t leave you alone until you take a stand or until you’re dead.
Evil stinks and it doesn’t disappear just because you want it to. You can still smell it with your eyes closed.
There is no end to the hatred in men, but there is an end to the hatred in a man. If your hatred is just, and deeds will get you to the end of it, then go and do what must be done.
We learn to love when we’re young. If we learn hating better, it has to go somewhere. We can hate ourselves or we can hate somebody else. Most people would rather hate somebody else.
I assumed that looking back reminded older guys of what they had shot at and missed, the what-ifs, the good memories, the bad, the people left behind, the people who moved on.
People don’t die so the universe can gauge your reaction. They die because life is finite.
A hopeful journey is more important than the destination.
Men who have been in war have a different attitude about being wronged.
Back home. What wonderful words. What a wonderful place.
I wish but to share your gifts as a young boy on his birthday would excitedly rip open his packages to the view of others.
My world was very limited in size and experience. Small things took on extra importance, at least to a child.
It made him wonder if all things taken from their home too soon lost some of their bloom.
He had no ability to give up. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to quit, he couldn’t. It wasn’t in him. It never had been.
If you decide to take somebody on, don’t look behind you, because there won’t be anybody there. You’ll be all alone.
They understood that brave men could be injured more by pity than by disease.
Gifford Ulrich didn’t know the distance from despair to hope, but he knew hope didn’t sleep in alleys.
As I have aged, I’ve been lucky never to reach old. Old is always at least five or ten years beyond my current calendar stage.
A person gets built and stands for a few years and then nature’s demolition team comes in.
My name Quan. Quan Nguyen. This Kim-Ly, wife. We next door. Do nails. We with Mr. Blaylock. He fight, we fight. We come here from Viet Nam. This good country, but sometimes, good people in good country have to fight.
Winning and losing was suddenly elevated to be about things that had no score and no teams and no uniforms; just one player at a time dealing with his life, his own struggle, his own triumph and torment.
Those who show no loyalty give up the right to expect any.
Fear was the hand of the devil holding a scalding hot branding iron and touching your brain and your stomach and yelling at you to run with leaden feet.
True genius is a complete stranger to most, a momentary acquaintance to others, a lasting friend to few.
In this country our principles should not be silent.
Now, it’s time for me to lock up and go. Listen to me. Lock up an empty building that’s gonna be torn down. Makes no sense. Like an old man tellin’ a lie to his son from his death bed. What’s the point? Who besides yourself are you fooling?
We get so beat down by what we need, sometimes we forget how to want.
He knew most men only heard what they wanted to hear, and he had no desire to be like most men.
Despite his best efforts, maintaining dignity in a head attached to an unclean body wrapped in unclean garments was a battle that encouraged surrender.
There’s nothing wrong with fighting when you have no choice. As a matter of fact, it’s what you should do, but when you fight, fight to win.
I wonder how long it takes for these people we elect to forget who they work for?
What kind of country has this become? Decent people can’t do anything without being watched.
It must be great to spend time in a spot and if you walk away, it’s so much better than before because of something you did.